By Mistake or Design
by beachchick3
Summary: "So you do love me," he grinned, "a quick death is always reserved for loved ones.""Well my dear parabatai," I teased, "only the best for you." I was a blushing mess. Did he actually say love, oh be still my heart. Be still before you beat right out of my chest in front of this devil that controls you. JonathanxOC fic Pre-Mortal Instruments
1. Prologue: Hurt

**By Mistake Or Design **

**Thank you for your Time, and this is during City of Ashes. **

**A****n excerpt from a future chapter. **

**Enjoy! **

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**Prologue**

Hurt

_Stop!_

Stop, for just one moment.

He didn't.

He was pulling me down the street. Decisions are incorrigible happenings. It allows only one moment for the choice to be made. Making the choice is simple. You are given the choice to choose the easier, the harder, the right, the wrong, or my favorite; I do what I want choice. Unlike those cases, this time I had no choice. Sometimes you never have one.

I was bound closely to him. I followed him down an alleyway leaving the New York Institute for likely the last time. I would never return, and see the giant looming buildings I had grown so fond of these past weeks. This was my home now. The home I had always wanted, and never thought possible. Now it felt like a sad unfinished dream.

His hold on me was tight, and my arm was going to get a bruise after this.

"Just let me say goodbye first," I pulled against his iron grip trying and failing to make him let me go, "Let me say goodbye," I repeated.

It felt like the summation of our relationship; me trying to be free, and him refusing, and doing the exact opposite by gripping tighter.

"You are just wasting your time," he said.

"Let me leave a note at least. They will be worried about me," I pried one finger off, "they will think I got killed or something." I didn't want to say _kidnap_ that would only upset him.

"If they care so much, where are they now?"

"You seem like your well informed, why not just tell me."

"Do you see them coming after you? If they are show me?" His hand encircled my wrist like the charm bracelet that used to be there. His words were like daggers, and he saw how much it bugged me.

He tugged, "Besides, you are under my care now. We will see how many times I will leave you."

"But you don't care about me, Jonathan. You can't."

"Duty is less fallible then feelings. I thought I already told you that."

"Doesn't mean I agree with you, I am not a mindless zombie."

He grunted in disagreement, and I scoffed.

"You sure have a lot of things to say, but you don't know the first thing about human emotion. You don't know how to care or feel. So don't even pretend that you do."

I watched his reaction to see if it had an affect him, and of course he was just unsympathetic as ever. Rage was his only emotion, and indifference to anything but his precious duty.

The tears started falling from my eyes, and he turned away cursing underneath his breath.

I hated feeling so weak, especially in front of him. When were we going to stop beating each other with verbal whiplash, I was fed up with all this pent up aggression.

On the sidewalk two civilians dressed in black started running near us. I was instantly pushed up against him and my back trapped against the concrete wall. He was so close that I could taste the salty sweat pooling on his neck. He was protecting me. I shuddered as his warmth transferred to my cold skin. I bit on my lip calming my need for his closeness. His breath tickled the softness of my neck, and his muscled body shielded me from the dangers of the world.

He could bring me to hateful tears, but in moments like this it was easier to believe in his humanity.

I placed my hand over his chest rubbing the place where his heart should be; he didn't need to carry the burden alone. His gaze locked with mine, and my breathing stopped.

He brushed off my comforting hand, "Stop crying like a weakling," I shrunk away from him as if electrocuted, he was disgusted with me.

"If you ever to that again, I will kill you," he promised. The danger passed, and Jon went back to his passive stride, and I refused to follow him any longer

I walked away from him, but he caught my wrist.

"Stop, you're hurting me," his hand became tighter the numbness spreading to my fingers.

"Good, maybe now you will learn."

"I'm not your lap-dog. I said let me go!"

"You said it, not me," he was toying with me now. He enjoyed seeing me regret my word choice.

A fresh row of tears cascaded down my cheeks, "You bastard! Who do you think you are? Do you not fear for your soul? Glory only comes with God, and you are going against him."

"True, but I guess we will just have to wait and see, won't we."

He was downright crazy, what was he going to do, take down the Clave?

I told him so, "Are you insane? You won't live that long if you think that way. Now let me go!

"Never," his nails dug into my skin.

"Let go you MONSTER!"

He let go, only to back-hand my cheek so hard I fell to the pavement.

I hit the ground hard, not having a problem with my emotions. I never hated someone so much in my life, but when I looked up I saw the briefest sign of remorse in his eye. For a moment I thought he really was human, and I was willing to suck that anger up, because I wanted this more than anything.

I wanted to see the humanity return in the dark soul in front of me, no matter how long it took. Some people are stubborn, others are hell-bent, and when it came to him I could be. I didn't care; I was going to get him back.

I just sat there, lost in my hopeful thoughts returning to see the remorse turn to a teasing smirk.

He was enjoying this a little too much, "Well look at you," I frowned, "Obedience suits you."

I went for his legs.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello all my lovely viewers! This is a JonathanxOC fic that will span throughout the entire series, and possibly farther. Thank you for your time, and if you are interested please don't be shy and leave a review**

**It is greatly appreciated! Much love 3**

**beachchick3**

**Without further adeiu i give you the first chapter of **

**Book 1: By Mistake or Design **

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**Chapter 1**

Four Mistakes

**(6 years 11 months 28 days ago)**

It was July 18, 2000. It was that day I decided to have a picnic.

It was my idea, and I thought it was a perfectly relaxing way to spend a Sunday.

It didn't matter if I was told, "_not to,"_ on several occasions, if Adam did not turn up, or going solo on my adventure. I was going to have a picnic with sugared strawberries, chocolates, and some books to read if I got bored. I had it in my mind that my body was just as powerful as my will to do things. I thought myself invincible and thoughts of injury were far from my mind.

Were you ever told to not do something, and you just wanted to do it all the more? Yes, I was that type of person.

Some people call it stubbornness, and I called it doing what I wanted. I was ten years old, very bored, and apparently a spoiled brat.

I set out at around nine after I finished with breakfast; waffles coated with maple syrup and blueberries. I wanted no one to tattle on me to father, so I headed south from the city, as far as south could possibly go. No one would bother me if I went that way. That was my first mistake.

I was young then, only ten, and naïve to so many more things.

I got lost twice and the sun was high in the sky making the hiking experience even more unbearable. My resolve was breaking just a tad and exhaustion trickling into its place. Instead of panicking I listened to my training, and knew that north was opposite direction to the sun, but that could easily be pointing south. Instead of wandering more and making a bigger mess I decided on a break.

That was my second mistake. I rested on a flat boulder. After a while I didn't feel like moving, my legs groaned in protest whenever I tried standing.

"Ouch, ouchie that hurts," my feet were blistered, "Not pretty," I inspected them with arrogant distaste.

I put my boots back on not wanting to pop or worsen the inflamed water sacs on my sole.

I removed the pack from my back, but I was still tired, and fanning my face was just making me dizzy so I stopped. _Maybe_ if I focused on breathing properly, _nope_ still very very tired. My haze lifted and my eyes searched my surroundings with comfortable ease. It was beautiful here. In all directions there were firs, maple, and the more predominant oak trees. This would be a cool place to play tag in.

The dried sap on the bark reminded me of waffle syrup from breakfast, and my stomach rumbled. I took out the strawberries, and took a bite savoring the warmed packed sweet goodness. I never had a problem with being hungry, being a growing Shadowhunter meant food all the time, and my tummy could hold so much I was surprised it didn't burst.

I sighed in content. This was the life. I listened to the birdcall, and the sound of the trees swaying in the wind. I leaned my head forward towards the wind as it gave me a moment's reprieve from the pounding sun.

My mind kept trying to tell me something, but I just relaxed lying back on the bolder. I got the inkling that something was wrong, and then it hit me. There was no more birdcall. It was silent. Something was terribly wrong, or something was going to go wrong. In better words there was a predator, and something was about to die.

I collected my things ready to bounce out of here, not so much in the mood for a picnic anymore. It was better to act especially when the animals sensed it, because their senses were way stronger than humans. My mind went into hundreds of scenarios of stalking predators, and the possibility of a demon attack. My backside shivered, and I swiveled around searching for the culprit. I grew uneasy at the feeling that something was watching me, and had been for a while.

I left the opened strawberries making a run for it. This was my third mistake.

If I had a chance to escape I was going to take it.

I ran without thinking, and my blindness would cost me.

I sprinted towards a field that I saw in the distance, not focusing on the ground. I did not pay attention to the glitter of metal a few steps away that would have made me apprehensive if I was in a clearer state of mind.

I turned to look behind me. I did this while my foot made contact with the metal teethed contraption on the ground.

_click_, I looked down, _**"SNAP!"**_

I WAS IN HELL!

BURNING TARTARUS OF SATAN! IT BURNS!  
THERE WAS NOTHING ON GODS WORLD THAT HURT As much AS THIS!

I fell facedown. The back-pack of picnic supplies suffocating me, and the intense pain in my ankle made me hate every choice leading up to this. I could tell you I handled it like a skilled warrior of the Nephilium, but I didn't. I cried to the mother I never knew, to my father, and to anyone that could hear. I was just ten for crying out loud.

My face was drenched in tears, and my fingers clawed at my camisole trying to release the aching pain radiating through my whole leg.

I couldn't even look at the metal monster that sunk its razor teeth into my poor swollen bleeding-_oh god don't look_- ankle.

"Stop wriggling," hands were on the contraption.

"What are you? AHHHHHHH!" I shrieked in pain as he tried wrenching it apart.

I rolled away from him. The leaves and dirt rubbed in my face and my mouth. But I was more focused on the metal teeth that took a shark bite out of my black booted ankles.

"Stop fighting it, you're making it worse," he commanded me fiercely pulling the metal clamp apart as far it could go, but it wouldn't budge.

My back arched at the pain, and I banged my fist against the ground wishing and praying he would be successful. I was still stuck in those blasted metal teeth, and it tore deeper into my flesh as he lost his hold forcing it snap shut again.

The pain increased twicefold.

"AHHHHHHH!" I cursed him and his mother, but he didn't stop.

The pain was blinding, and I just wanted him to— "Please, please, please," I rolled back screaming even louder, "get it off."

He pulled out something, "_Slice_" he cut off my foot, and suddenly I was released.

I couldn't feel the pain, or the foot, "You killed me."

"You are welcome," he said dryly putting back a machete he had on his back.

"You killed me," I repeated lifted my head to stare him head-on.

I gasped.

Those pitch-black eyes were so familiar. It was Déjà-Vu, _no it was more familiar_, more surreal, and I couldn't stop staring. I knew it was rude, but I couldn't. His attention was not on my silent revelation, but trained on my wound not once noticing my direct gaze. They were so overwhelming for someone so young, and if I could compare it to anything it would be a predator's gaze. I felt bare and helpless in front of him. In my helpless state I was forced to let him look over the wound with an indifferent intelligence.

"You didn't break the bone," he explained, "you can walk."

My breathing became steadier.

"You killed me," I muttered still watching him in my own fascination.

"Hardly," he probed the wound, and I flinched, "I think it would defeat the purpose of me trying to free you," I looked down to see the damage, ready to faint if I saw any missing appendages.

But the evil metal monster was the one torn to shreds. My ankle was still connected to my ravaged red and bloody foot. I was so relieved that a new set of tears cascaded down my face. I was one lucky person to have him…. unless…. this was his trap.

I glanced at my rescuer finally making eye contact with him, and began sizing him up. You would be surprised that I found a boy close to my age or appeared so, lean build, and only a machete on his back. He didn't look like a hunter.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"The person that saved your life," he seemed proud of that fact.

"No," I wiped my cheeks, "What is your name?"

"You need to get this cleaned up," he kicked the metal contraption, "that wound can easily become infected from the dirt that you were rolling around in. This could have prevented if you followed my directions." He started to lift me up, but I pushed away from him. I was afraid of him because one, he was creepy, two, he was a stranger, and three, he was suspiciously un- willing to reveal his identity.

"Are you a mundane?" I asked rolling my eyes, "you know a human, a mortal, a normal person?" That sounded stupid, "homo sapiens?" he probably didn't know what that meant.

"Do you want to walk?" he asked.

How could I walk with this, "No, it hurts too much."

He scrunched his lips and squinted his eyes, "I was not asking about the pain, Nephilium girl," my eyebrows rose, "I asked if you want to walk?"

"Yes?"_ Was this a trick question?_

"Then let me help you get this cleaned up or you are going to lose your foot. I did not go through all that trouble to see you fall short," I flinched away from his hand.

"I don't know. How can I trust you?"

He didn't seem surprised by my reluctance, "I saved you from that trap, and I am offering you help," he said slowly, "how can you not trust me?"

He has got to be kidding me, "Haven't you heard of talking to strangers?"

"Haven't you heard of accepting help when it is given to you?"

He did have a point, but I still flinched away from him, "Don't be difficult. For arguments sake, if the roles were reversed, then I would be indebted instead of distrustful of such a person."

"But, I still don't know who you are?"

He looked irritated, "I am not going to tell you anything. So please take my hand," I didn't.

"Very well, wait here for another _helpful stranger_, to come and help you," He started walking away leaving me distressed on the forest ground.

"You can't leave me!" I yelled hoping he would turn around, "there can be wolves in this forest!"

"Good luck!" He waved over his shoulder.

He was just kidding. No one would leave someone out here alone. I counted to ten but he still didn't turn around, and by now I was getting nervous. What if he really was going to leave me out here? Was he safer than the wolves that would eat me, or maybe he was worse than the wolves? I heard a howl from far off, and my body froze in fear.

"Hey, come back!" I yelled, and he appeared behind a tree.

"You called," he looked at his leisure, and I knew he was far worse than wolves.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, "come back and help me."

He smiled triumphantly and came back.

_Smug bastard_, I thought. But I didn't refuse him this time, "Have it your way. Keep your name a secret it's probably embarrassing anyways," and his eyes glittered in amusement, reached for my two arms I leaned towards him.

I let him lift me up and I moaned at the pain that throbbed up my leg, my ankle was numb, and I unsteadily leaned most of my weight into him.

He wasn't too happy about that.

He dropped my backpack in a bush nearby, and I have yet to retrieve it to this day.

He didn't complain, or speak at all, which made me uneasy the entire time. It wasn't until he got to the middle of the field that I started slowing down. I was so tired, and the pain in my mind was working against me. It made me want to give up with every step I took. _Stop moving_, one step, _stop breathing,_ another step, oh god, this was HELL!

He gave me no reassurances only curt commands on how to stand and egging me on to keep going.

"I can't do this," I confessed, "it hurts."

"Ignore the pain."

"Easy for you to say, you didn't have a bear trap just snap your ankle off," could he just have a little sympathy.

"Right now, I am regretting ever stepping in to help you," he began slowing down with me.

"You don't mean that," I whined out.

He made no comment.

We made it to a stream on the other side of the field, and I collapsed on the pebbled ground. He slowly helped me off with my ruined boot while I kicked and screamed. He helped me wipe off the blood against my protest, because if it was just me I wouldn't care if it got infected. As long as the pain stopped that was all I wanted.

"I need an iratze," I spoke out while he was inspecting the cleaned wound.

"I know," he mumbled. If he knew that it meant that he was most definite a Nephilium, Downworlder, or a mundane with Sight, though the latter was a little far-fetched.

"Wait here," he said, and took off.

"Where are you going?!" He left me.

"Hey don't leave me here alone!" I heard another wolf howl, and I couldn't help but panic. Of course he would leave me, and my heart dropped in my stomach. I was a failure as a Shadowhunter, and as a daughter. I deserved to have my punishment of being left to die. My guilt was making me very dramatic.

My courage from this morning had hitched a ride back home, and I was left with only the guilt of going against parental discretion, and not waiting for Adam to come. If Adam came I would never have got lost, and this whole fiasco with almost losing my ability to walk would never have happened.

"This is my entire fault," the stream water kept trickling through, and that was all I heard for miles. There was no person for miles. I was alone. Maybe if I screamed then someone would hear me, and come running. I stopped myself remembering of werewolf pack and vampire clans that surrounded some of the southern border could very well hear me, and smell….

_Oh god_, I started wiping more blood off.

What if a vampire smelled it, and thought me a treat? I wished I had taken my seraph blade, and not have been afraid of losing it. I would never go anywhere now without my seraph blade. I closed my eyes wishing that he would come soon. I prayed really hard, and still no sign of him.

He probably meant what he meant earlier, and he was not going to come back.

Or he was?

Or not?

He was not going to come back.

I took a gulp of air ready to scream for help, and like that he returned carrying something with him.

I was surprised he returned to me, but more relieved with the fact that I was one step closer to going home.

I clapped my hands at seeing the stele, "Thank goodness I thought I was a goner. Oh good, you found one," I saw him hopping down the river where he had left.

"Hurry up, it's hurting!"

"If you keep complaining I am going to turn around," His house must be close by, and I felt giddy knowing there could be more people to help me if need be.

"You have a stele?"

"It's not mine," he said softly, revealing the familiar healing stele that I associated with runes and healing.

I felt relief urging him closer to the wound, "Put the iratze on my calf," I pulled up my pants, expecting him to blush in embarrassment, but he looked focused on getting the job done. He worked on my calf carving it deeper and slower than it usually was supposed to be.

I hissed, "You made it too deep," but we both watched the iratze turn to a gold, and then spread out like light towards the gaping bite wound, and the sinew of muscle and skin reattached, and the pain became a dull hum.

Steles are amazing. I was not a stranger to people marking my skin. People at the Academy did it, and my trainer would mark me if I needed Agility or Healing after spraining a muscle.

I had the Enkili rune since I was a babe to protect me from the demon traces, and was marked when I was first initiated into the Shadowhunter society. My second Mark was on my shoulderblade, the Voyance; for sight, and I got that when I was seven. This past summer I got my Agility Mark; which quickens the mind and body, and Fortitude Mark that I had traced before coming here. Maybe that was why my resolve to come here was so strong, and my courage felt infallible.

"You did well," I inspected it; "you do this often."

"No," and he mumbled to himself.

"What was that?"

"That was my first Mark. I was trying not to take a chance, but I guess I did a good job."

I felt my right eye twitch, "Come here, let me give you a reward," I murmured. I smiled beckoning him closer, and he half-heartedly leaned forward.

I reached back, and slapped him on the cheek. It gave a satisfying sound, and I could see that my slap had left a faint red blemish on his otherwise pale white skin. I thought he was going to pounce on me, but instead he just vibrated with anger.

He looked deadly towering over me, "What was that for? Are you insane right now?"

As if that was enough for me to feel scared about him. I just survived a bear trap; I was ready for round two.

"That was for almost paralyzing me you imbecile. Haven't you heard of practicing before putting it on real people? Well you got what you deserved," his frown became any deeper, "But you were successful so I guess this," I pulled on his collar.

I was surprised at how easy this was, but I had been practicing on Adam after our practice rounds; which was every other day to think of it.

It had left me permanently confident in my ability to charm the socks off boys.

"Is what you deserve," I pulled hard on his black collar, leaving no room for him to reject me. My lips met his, but this was different. His lips were frozen, and instead of him kissing back it was just me forcing mine on his. I was surprised he hadn't pushed me off.

I was the one to stop the kiss, and I was not afraid to say that instead of it being yucky, I actually was pretty nice. Tangy and spicy, I liked it a lot. His eyes were closed, and for a while I was wondering when he would open them. I was expecting him to like it, but when he opened them his black-eyes finally reflected the rage within.

I laughed at his expression, "like it did you?"

"You're disgusting!"

I wiped my lips with a practiced charm grinning as he made a sickened face and repulsed noises.

I giggled, "Stop wiping your mouth, it wasn't that bad."

He rubbed his tongue with his nails, "What type of person does that? Do not ever do that again. Did you even wash your mouth" I laughed at him again, he was funny, "your breath smells!"

"_You_ are a charmer, Lover Boy," he blushed.

"I hate you," there was venom in his voice, but I knew he was just embarrassed for being caught off guard, "I wished I left you to die."

"No you don't," I giggled.

He shook his head slowly, "You are wrong. I do wish that, and no one would have been the wiser," the dark of his eyes grew, "you could have screamed for hours, and no one would have come, but to pick off what was left of you."

"What the hell?" _Talk about creepy_; especially when he looked off in the distance like that, "What is your problem?"

"Nothing," he returned to his solemn self, and I felt a little sad for him. He probably didn't have any friends and that's why he acted so weird. Well that is what the other Nephilium children thought of me.

I coughed shaking off the awkwardness, "How about I make you a promise."

He didn't look convinced, "Quit looking at me like that! I didn't give you _coodies_. Well here I go. I swear on Raziel to be indebted to you, and to kiss you every time you save my life," I winked at him, and he looked even more nauseated.

Before I could say another thing, he was already running down the stream into the forest, and I couldn't stop laughing.

"See you later Lover Boy!" He ran even faster.

What did he think I was going to chase after him or something? I just might if he kept acting like I was some disease.

I decided to come back the Sunday after, and see if he would be here. Just the look on his face would be enough to keep me laughing until Christmas. I chose then that I just might do it, even though there was a slim chance he would show his face after what happened.

At least there was a chance. That was my fourth mistake, and probably the worst one I ever made.


	3. Chapter 2

**Did you like it? I hope you did, and here is Chapter 2 where you can get a feel of who the main character really is. You saw how she was at ten, and she was just reciting from memory so it was far more quick-paced than the other chapters are going to be. **

**I hope to stay true to the characters especially Jonathan, and the fact that he gradually lost his humanity over time, and was not born a demon. Well i will stop ranting and let you read to your heart's delight.**

**Wow 50 views in the first three hours! I feel so special, I hope you enjoy this one even more.**

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**Chapter 2 **

You Don't Know

**June 20, 2007(Present)**

Today was the best type of day, the lazy ones.

The breaking dawn came with a mighty brilliance.

The sunrays are a catalyst to the end of my sleep. The little light dancers waltzed and salsas skipped through the window-pane and tip-toed up the wooden floor to where I took residence during the better part of the night. The cascade cast a rude awakening into my darkened room; a cocoon from the world and found me wrapped and tangled in warm sheets my head snuggled against a fluffed pillow. Deep sleep was evading quickly, and my drowsy mind starting to catch up.

The gears sluggishly turning and popping into place, and I cracked one eye open.

I mumbled into my pillow, "I rise with the day, another day closer to my grave," it was a warlock lucky saying, and father woke me with it before I even knew what it meant, "so brave the day, for to be led astray, is demon's play."

Let's be honest it was a little too blunt and insidious for a three year old, but that's parents for you. They are just downright weird sometimes, especially the magically inclined kind.

First things first, start with training and endurance. I woke like this every day.

Half-awake I leaned up in bed, wiping my tired eyes, and reaching my arms up towards the ceiling so I could get a good stretch in. I didn't feel sick which a surprise was. I had an insistent fever the past week, and I regularly washed my mouth out with strong peppermint. It felt good to have a change for one morning. The mist of the morn was receding and so was the sleepiness.

I entered complete awareness and my heart quickened sending me into frenzy. There is no training today. No training, meant no work, and that was something I could be very happy about.

I smiled, and kept the quickness of my preparation for the day. I was filled with elation for the day that was barely starting. The possibilities were endless.

I skipped the shower.

I wet my face, winced at a pimple on my cheek, pulled my hair back, hated the color of my hair and promised myself to dye it soon, lined my eyes with a bit of charcoal eyeliner, took some off because it was too much, and then put on my lucky gold bracelet. I fitted my black Shadowhunter gear with a couple hard tugs, which was getting too small since I feel I had grown at least an inch since last year, and not in the tall sense.

I was gaining weight fast, but feeling bad about myself wasn't going to help.

I went to my wooden chest in front of my bed.

I opened it and searched with an accomplished practice. I pushed the female products, and my wooden bow away. This needed to be cleaned out.

I found my adamas stele under my writings of battle tactics. It was familiar in my hand and I examined the etched angel wings and symbols of healing on it, strapping it on to my left calf like a pistol. My witchlight was broken so I left it in the corner of my room; another project for another day. At the end of my routine I strapped my seraph blade, Duma; which was named after the angel prince of dreams. Ironically in this situation I felt like I was truly dreaming, days like these never happened.

The Celebration of Saint Peter was today, and Alicante was abuzz with its own preparation.

The Shadowhunters of all ages would be decorating and preparing for the festival in the town square in front of the Hall of Accords. The church bells tolled thrice marking the hour, and it seemed that all of Alicante was preparing for the Saint Peter's feast. Celebrations were spread far and thin during the year so these were precious days, especially since it meant a day of rest for all Shadowhunters.

I was thankful for the rest, but mischief was what I was hoping to have today.

Yes, plenty of mischief.

Without making too much noise, I exited my room, stole two pies from the pantry securing them in a carrying pack, and edged out the front door wincing as the bright light blinded my eyes.

Let's put it really simple, the city of Alicante is beautiful. I live in the homeland of the Shadowhunters known as Idris, and its one inhabiting city; Alicante. The city really did the homeland justice even if there was only one. The air was filled with the sweet scent of cinnamon, strawberries, and when you were near the bakery downtown it smelled of chocolate and freshly made croissants.

I softly closed the door, balancing the cold pies on my palm, and then inhaled the spicy-sweet morning air.

It was a lovely place to live. There was a lot of green around here. It was in-between, around, and on staked stone houses making it look as if Alicante had never been built, but grown up from the earth itself.

I could just imagine, On The First Day God commanded the earth to bring forth Alicante, before cities were even conceived in man's mind. There was a timeless beauty of it, and vibrant feeling of nature and safety of being kept hidden from demons and the outer mundane world.

_We people of Alicante were ever so thankful for Wards placed on the city, separating the splendors so only the good Nephilium could see it._ In reality it was just a way to keep everyone out, as if they were second class unworthy of tainting such beauty.

Alicante was surely a sight to see in one's lifetime. Every cobbled street was etched in my memory. Everyone deserved to see it at least once in their lifetime. At night the cobbled sidewalks were lighted by romantic street lights burning the same homely feeling.

As a child born and raised in Alicante the sights were normality.

Too bad I had not have enjoyed those days even more while I had them.

"You're up early?" My grin turned to a frown.

"Happy Saint Peter's Day, Mentor," I had not left as quietly as I thought.

"I thought you would sleep in today," she said shielding her eyes from the sun.

My mentor and guardian eyed me carefully from the front door I had just come through.

She scrunched her lips, "What are you up to?" She thought I was up to trouble. I smiled innocently at her, and this just confirmed it.

We both shared this residence. Today I thought we would hardly see each other since we only had to train or team-up to fight demon activity near the border of Alicante. Both of which were suspended for the day. But you couldn't really suspend demons while I thought of it. What a perfect day for them to strike.

I held the pies to my abdomen impatient as ever, "Are you surprised? I sometimes surprise myself too. I heard it's healthy to do at least one spontaneous thing a day, or life loses it meaning, and you can eventually grow dull, and die."

"I don't think that is how the saying goes," she made a face at my childishness. Well hell, she paid too much attention to me anyways, "What are the pies for?"

"Uuugghhhh….it is for Aline Penhallow," _in her face_, I mentally added. It sounded like a question, and she knew it.

"Seraphina," her tone was reprimanding.

"Amatis," I countered.

"Don't call me that," she rebuked, and I shrugged.

"Instead of taking those pies to the Penhallow girl, take them to the town square I came from there earlier this morning. They are going to need all the baked goods they can get."

"I might not be home until late," I said, adding on, _if it was okay with her._

"Just be home safe, Ragnor placed you in my care, and as such you have to…,"

"Yeah _yeah_, Do everything you say, I know," Amatis was like a repeating recorder.

"That's just it, you don't know. Following orders is only the beginning, keeping yourself safe, and not being reckless is one of your major flaws. You have many, but that is one of the biggest ones. Recklessness doesn't do anything but get someone and possibly the whole team killed."

"Gee, thanks all the medals in my room are just my recklessness, I guess," she knew right were to punch didn't she, but I was bloody good with comebacks.

"I never said you weren't talented."

"Then what is the problem, _Mom_?" Her eyes twitched, and I regretted saying that.

She breathed out slowly, "How can you keep others safe when you cannot even protect yourself? Saying you know doesn't mean you know. Sometimes there is nothing you can do, but watch as your mistakes stare you in the eye and the guilt… just listen carefully. When people assume, they put themselves and everyone they care about in mortal danger."

"Assume makes an ass out of you and me," I added.

She seemed tired, "Your naivety will never help you Sera. For the Shadowhunter way of life you have to be equipped for danger that lies around any corner."

"Well, when and if I get to the corner I will fret then," I felt cheeky today, and buoyant like I could fly. No one was going to ruin that.

She shook her head sadly and I giggled at her expression.

She made to leave, but remembered something, "Are those pies cold? If they are, reheat them at the bakery before you take them in. I won't have anyone complaining that my pies are cold."

"I don't know Mentor Graymark, men sometimes cannot handle my pies," I winked at her, and she looked disgusted. She hated when I joked like that.

"Stop playing, and take the pies before the morning is already over. By the way, the girl with the big dreadlocks and piercing you know the one that is always on Basilica Street,"

"Sasha Elkentree?"

"That one, she was asking around for you."

"Okay maybe I will catch her into town, and for the record I'm not playing, I'm just pure mischief."

"_Well_ tell me when Mischief wants some training because we start bright and early tomorrow. No staying up too late!" She shut the door on that final note.

I was already wincing at the work-out she probably had ready for me tomorrow.

"Damn mentors and their authority complex!"

I was already down the street, when my angry mumbling stopped. I turned a left and kept going down, eventually all streets ended up at the Hall of Accords, _eventually_ being the key word. The Hall of Accords was where everything happened, and festivals were a specialty.

The pies Amatis made smelled delicious, and had my favorite cherry innards. Amatis Graymark as she liked going as, was my Mentor and more recently my guardian. She had been my Mentor since I was four years old, but I still lived with my father then. I had moved in with her when I turned seven and that was when my real training began.

Amatis had a troubled past.

Since she was left by her first husband Steven-or was it Sam Herondale, anyways whenever anyone even breathed a mention of him she would swell like a tomato, and yell at you until her vein throbbed in her forehead. Just ask Aline, she did it, and you don't see her coming over here do you?

But no one really knows someone, I mean truly knows someone until you have lived with them. No one knew that Amatis cried every night weeping for her husband that left her and things that could never be said, things never fixed.

Separation sucks, but Dying is even worse.

When others forgive you for having anything to do with unspeakable things; joining the infamous Valentine Morgenstern's Circle for instance and going against the Clave, it isn't enough. The Clave forgave her, and people never brought it up anymore. Sometimes it doesn't matter if people forgive you for the past. What matters is can you forgive yourself?

"Sera!"

I turned around, "Sera slow down!" Well there he is.

"Well if it isn't the most handsome thing to walk this earth," I greeted him.

"We have a problem," he said.

"I have pie," I giggled I was doing that a lot today.

"I'm being serious."

"_I'm being Adam_, who is kind of acting like a brat."

His mouth hanged open, and I found it funny, "Are you _kidding _me right now? Well then as a brat, I shouldn't tell you that Sasha Elkentree saw Amatis, and was trying to warn her, but she said she was busy and went back home."

I took a whiff of the pies, "I heard about that already, I think she borrowed something from me," delicious pies. I could get a couple of slices before I offered them up to be slaughtered by hungry Shadowhunters.

He escalated from there, "_Yeah_, how about I heard something really stupid about you? Yeah I did—

I leaned the pies on my hip, letting him rant it out, "Because then that would be easier than the alternative. You wouldn't guess what I did find, YOU" I pointed at myself, "Yes you, walking like a crazy person like-nothing-is-wrong. Which-it-most-certainly-is-"

He talk really fast when he is angry, "Wait, wait, Adam, I can't understand you when you talk like that, what are you saying?"

"It's Aline. She found out about what you did last Sunday," he gasped out.

"What?" I shrieked.

"_What_, _What_ she says, of course this was going to happen, what do you think would happen when you are meeting a mundane right outside the outskirts of…."

I close his mouth with my empty hand, "shut it, you know he isn't a mundane." I stare around the street that is almost empty, "what if someone heard you! No one is supposed to know." I whispered screamed at him.

"It doesn't matter," his words sent shiver through my back; "Aline already started telling people."

_Wait, what? Did I hear him right?_

My breathing quickened and I pulled on my ponytail, "Who? What? They are all lies, no one would believe her."

"They know, Sera. The Clave knows."

"The Clave knows," I repeat, "The Clave knows."

"Yeah they know, and you're in big trouble. Telling mundanes about this place, how stupid can you be. You have done many stupid things before but this is just suicidal. I mean what were you thinking!"

"For the last time he isn't a mundane alright so stop calling him that. The Clave knows? They know. Oh, god the Clave knows. Are you sure the Clave knows?"

"Yes, why do you keep repeating it?" He stares into my eyes, "I didn't break you or something."

"This isn't funny Adam. THAT BITCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE HER!" He jumps back at my outburst. I scare myself too, I hardly blow my fuse, "Maybe if I confront her, and tell others the truth," but Adam already was shaking his head.

"It has already happened," he said, and my eyes widened, "The Clave already sent a search party in the vicinity you meet with him, and she told them the field you meet on every Sunday. I don't know how she knows, but she knows. She was bragging how they are searching for you as well, and that is when I came looking for you."

I was found out.

There was no hope against the Clave. They were the ruling party that interpreted and executed The Law enforced on the Nephilium, Downworlders, and Mundanes, and when the rules are broken you can tell from my reaction it isn't good.

_Oh geez, the Clave knows_, "I think I'm going to be sick." Adam looks worried maybe he thinks I will spew the contents on him, and he is such a clean freak I can't help but want to do it now.

"Then don't do it on me," he takes a few steps back, "do it over here," he turns me around.

"I won't," I mummer, but I would if I could.

The Clave presides over the Shadow World so to say, and kept everything in order with an iron fist. Picture Stalin, but actually liked, and less ruthless, well maybe they aren't like Stalin but in my mind they are. They are the basic hed-hanchos of the world, and I was sick with their authority. Who died and made them gods?

"I have to go to my father's," I passed the pies over to Adam my hands were shaking, "take these to the square, and don't come looking for me. I will be with dad. He needs to know what is happening, and that I might not see him for a while."

"What are you going to do Sera? What if they catch you," his face turned darker, "I won't let them hurt you!"

I reached up on my tippy-toes patting his head, "Shush there Papa Bear! You know you're my best friend right? I would have had you as my Man of Honor even if you didn't want it."

He pushed my hand away, "No I wouldn't. Not even if you made me Inquisitor. What would Rachel say if she caught me with a dress on? I mean come on."

"She would say 'It all made sense, no wonder you never put out'," he smacked my shoulder and I yelped.

"Don't talk about Rachel like that. She is a lady."

"_Gee_ protective boyfriend much maybe she will notice you more now, and stop thinking of humping that boy in our second class."

"_Who, who_ is the fucker!" I laughed at him, he is so gullible sometimes.

"Not funny, how can you be joking at a time like this."

"Hah you believed me! At least you will remember me that way," this was so damn depressing.

"Stop saying things like that. This isn't goodbye Sera."

"No seriously, you would have been my Man of Honor like in the movie. I would have made you wear a dress, maybe a little make-up, and you could have held my dress as I peed."

"I do not recall that. Sera, In Raziel's name, you saw that movie once in France and now it is all you talk about. At least we can say you still haven't lost your humor."

I took his face in my hands which was hard since he is so damn tall.

"What are you doing?"

"Your forehead is so big," I made the hand symbol for peace and started at the forehead, "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I bless you my son and say farewell."

"Stop doing that, you're weirding me out."

"I know," I winced because I didn't, I didn't know a lot of things, "But just in case," I hugged him tightly around the waist while he perfectly balanced the pies in his hand. It was the Shadowhunter skills I tell you, plus he was so damn tall. I mean 6'5 is too tall for my 5'8.

I gave him the anaconda squeeze and he patted my head, true friendship.

"Take care, Seraphina Fell."

"Take care, Adam Ravenkey."

I jogged briskly away taking the long way out of Alicante, towards the southernmost border. I crossed to a different street, and I was proud to say I didn't look back.

I was a blubbering mess, and I couldn't take Adam crying because if I did then I would never be able to do what I was going to do. Hopefully it was not too late. If I kept at this pace, and sprinted the last mile then I would make it ten minutes tops. It would seem I was getting some training in today, but I didn't mind the work-out burn on my muscles, because it was the farthest from my mind.

I tripped once on a large rock, and cursed the forming bruise on my knee. I quickly reapplied the iratze for speed on my left arm feeling my muscles jitter with the reinforced stamina to keep going. I wiped the rest of my tears away steeling myself.

I better get there before it's too late, because if I didn't then Aline Penhallow would never survive to see her next Saint Peter's Festival.

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**Wow, Sera is a Shadowhunter on a mission, get out of her way! ;) **

**Please, leave a review and tell me how you feel about it! Or wait till the next update it will be soon! PROMISE! **

**beachchick3**


	4. Chapter 3

**As promised. Here is the third chapter. **

**I can't believe i didn't put this , but everything is owned to the beautiful Cassandra Clare, and her spellbound world of the Mortal Instruments. As much as her characters seem more alive than fiction, they will always be her creations :) On the other hand,**

**Seraphina Fell, and any other characters i make up belong to me, and can be used by only by the creator, being yours truly.**

**Good? Good :) now let's get the show on the road!**

**Chapter 3, if you please.**

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**Chapter 3**

The Ugly Truth

**June 20, 2007 **

_ I tripped once on a large rock, and cursed the forming bruise on my knee. I wiped the rest of my tears away steeling myself. _

_I better get there before it's too late, because if I didn't then Aline Penhallow would never survive to see her next Saint Peter's Festival._

"Dad!" I screamed crossing the front gate.

I passed the glamour easily. My father's magic had never harmed me. I cost too much to be harmed by a protection spell.

The glamour only worked for people who he didn't want to see. Which was most certainly not me, I am his little girl. Glamour is a magical illusion put up to elude others to seeing something else, when the actual place is concealed. It is usually used for mundanes for not seeing Downworlders, and Demons inches away from their face, or humongous cities that are not supposed to exist...Coughs…Idris...cough.

If only actors and actresses, mob bosses, Brad Pitt, knew about it, we would be rich.

Plus, the house was already familiar with my aura. Father had already combined that into the protection barrier so there was no possible way for me to fall into danger.

The grass was exceptionally green today, and the August sun had not scorched it as bad as last year. I felt a little dizzy, hoping I wasn't already getting sick again. I walked up the porch steps my eyes drifting over the stoned slabs father had stacked with powerful magic. A big red sign welcomed me, the one I told him to take down ages ago.

_Go away, no service, Will Be Killed on Sight_, was blotted in big red coloring. I touched it remembering my childhood here. My father could be a grouch sometimes, but once you wiggled into his heart he was a sucker for cuddling.

I knocked repeatedly on the door, "Dad! DAAAAAAD!" I heard the creaking of the floor as someone opened the peep-hole.

"It's me," I repeat, "Open up, please." He was a stickler on manners, and to be honest I needed to be on my best terms if he was going to hear what I had to say.

"Sera? What are you doing here at this unholy hour?" He started undoing the bolts.

He opened the door and I saw him in his morning glory. He was still wearing one matching set of the Christmas pajama clothes I bought last year, _the Ho Ho Ho,_ one. He wore them the whole year when he was working around the house. Not the same one, but different pairs of course. He called them his comfortable clothes. I called him lazy. Two ivory horns peeped out of his sleeping cap, "I'm kind of busy right now."

He was groggy and looked like he still wanted to get some hours of sleep in. His cheeks were a bit flushed which was a contrast to his familiar symmetrical green face. I felt like a three year old. I wanted to hid my face in his shirt and bawl my eyes out.

I bit my nails anxiously, "I know, but I really need to speak to you."

"This isn't the best time, Sera," A noise came from inside, he checked something behind him, "I still have to groom the Alicorn, and Magnus has me busy on some recent developments."

"Allie can wait Dad. This is important, life and death here."

He pinched his nose, "What is it this time? You haven't broken anything have you? I still haven't paid back the last one." I shook my head, "No wait, you set the Accords Hall on fire."

"But you thought it was funny!"

He couldn't help but smile, "Not when I have to pay for it," he leaned against the door, "I knew I should have been stricter with you. I babied you too much."

"Don't worry Amatis is strict enough for the both of us."

"That's true," was he going to let me in, "you sure you didn't burn anything?"

I was so tired already, "That was once Dad, one time! No, I did not break anything. I can't promise any future circumstances, but as of this moment, no," he was a serious grouch in the morning, but I had no time to lose, "Please Papa." His eyes became softer.

He waved me in, and I ran inside sitting on the plush red chair near the burning fireplace. It was my favorite one. I finally felt safe, my muscles melting against the soft barrier of chair fluff.

I looked around. Everything was just the way I had seen it three days ago. The dishes were still dirty, the floor needed a good mop, and in the majority of the room there were gadgets, potions in various points in the brewing process, and a cage with a hairy looking creature inside. It made a vulgar gesture at me.

"What's that?"

"It is a Mormo."

He picked up the dishes on the table moving them to the sink still continuing the conversation, "They are vampiristic breed in nature, and famous in some mythological tales for frightening individuals into behaving. Though they are a myth like you and me, and known to be quite treacherous," that get's the little furball's attention, "In definition it is a malevolent spirit that enjoys biting bad children."

"You're just saying that," I gave a weak laugh.

"Juju-nica-pau!" The creature was reaching towards me with greedy eyes now, "Juju, Juju!" It bared its sharpened yellow canines. I jumped back in my chair.

"Ignore him," dad said, "he has horrible manners," I didn't really want to know what had warranted such behavior, but I hoped he would brew the nastiness out of that little ugly thing.

Dad disappeared into the back room where he kept the more_ dangerous_ of his works. He was always working, and partially I blamed it on immortality. People went a little crazy with too much time. My father is a warlock, which means he was born from a human mother and a demon father. The offspring of such parents are said to have peculiar physical appearances, which can be seen in Dad's green skin, horned head, and extra finger which I call his "tea finger".

Other warlock and witches have had have cases of antlers, lizard skin, black wings, webbed hands, and extra digits. Though I have never met someone with all of those that would be frightening and a little badadss if I do say so myself. I even saw a woman with blue skin, and she was really kind to me.

He came out, took a turn into the kitchen literally disappearing, and reappearing near the front door. He was avoiding me, "Dad, I have something to tell you."

"I do too," I was taken aback, "but you go first," he came back with two cups of tea. How sweet was that? I don't remember him being this sweet in a while. He was up to something.

I blew on my tea; "No, no, you go first," my curiosity beat my need for preservation for the moment. The Clave couldn't really find me when I was in a place they couldn't even see. When I left however, now that is where the problem would lie.

"Lemon?"

"Yes, please," I loved how he always asked, and never assumed.

He sat in front of me, the coffee table separating us.

He took a sip, eyeing the fire, and then his black eyes locked with my green ones.

"Magnus contacted me with some news," he said lightly.

"You want to talk about Magnus? Our Magnus? The High Warlock of Brooklyn?"

"Of course not, but nevertheless he has seemed to meddle into this conversation it would seem, and he was the herald of something…important," his Adam apple was bobbing like he was chocking on his tea, but I knew that was not the case. He looked so much older than his twenty year old appearance, and never had I seen his gaze so knowing before.

"Dad? Is everything okay?"

His head snapped up, "_That_, There is the problem, Sera. You can't say that," he put down the tea cup on the blood oak table separating us.

"Is there something wrong with saying _everything's okay_? Are you angry with me?"

"No, it's not that. Sera I am," he chocked again.

I sat patiently which was a push for me. I had never been still for anything in my life. But today was the exception, partially because I was so dreadfully afraid, and had never felt this way before. I never felt this, not on my first demon hunt, not when Aline embarrassed me on Adam's name-day, and not even if the Clave razed the house this very moment.

I was afraid of his wariness to tell me something, because _he_ being afraid, scared me.

He looked pained, and I set my teacup down. I hadn't even taken a sip.

"Tell me," I whispered.

He opened his mouth but no words came out, my fist beat against the sides of the cushion.

"Just tell me Ragnor," I hadn't said his name in a long time.

It sounded so foreign to me.

"I am not your father."

Well that wasn't so hard_, wait? What?_

Now I was lost for words, and was hurt with the relieved expression on his face. He looked like a deflated balloon, one second high with anticipation, and the next BAM! Deflated.

"It had been bothering me for a long time. I am not your father, Sera," he chuckled a little, his eyes far away, not knowing that he was breaking my heart even more.

"That is not a joking matter," I felt my muscles go limp.

"You think I would want to joke about this. Sera, my little girl," I stepped over the coffee table and wept into his shirt. He opened his arms wide, and like a big seventeen year old baby I sat in his lap holding onto his pajama shirt for dear life and wept. Wept until I was talking blubbering into his shirt like there was no tomorrow. I didn't care if it was childish, or I was too old, and I would look downright ugly after. I needed my dad, and a healthy strong sob session.

I cried for a while. It could have been a few minutes, or hours but I didn't care I held on like he was the only thing important in my life, and in the moment _yeah_ he was.

He cradled me even though we were nearly the same height now, "what are you thinking," he said.

"That," I sniffled, "In the back of my head I always knew. I was more Shadowhunter than Downworlder. Even when the children," I hiccupped, "would call me half-breed, witch-child, warlock bastard," he flinched, "I knew they were wrong, because I knew what I was. I was your daughter no matter what."

"I'm sorry they said those things," he petted my pale white-haired head which would have been awkward, but not when it came to him because he so rarely bonded with others. He was one of those people that put up fronts because it was easier that way. I wished I was more like him, but then again I wouldn't be brash little ol' me.

"Now, I wish I was wrong. I am so angry at you," my hand fisted his shirt, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to, really I did, but the truth is an ugly thing, and those who know it, should be weary with giving it out freely," I gulped down the last of my sobs.

"Don't talk in riddles," I wanted to add _Dad_, but I couldn't and it hurt, "speak plainly. Why didn't you tell me? Were you afraid?"

"Not afraid, I was wary of revealing such truths, because your innocence," he touched my cheek, "is a blessing, and I would have been taking that away from you. If I placed the past on your shoulders would you have become the person you are today? Could you live with the truth?"

I remembered Amatis words this morning.

I cleared my throat, "I don't know."

"I never was supposed to be a father, Sera. I never knew my father. My mother…" his mouth quirked up, "was a hero to me, and my father was a demon. My parenting experiencing was off the radar, and I was not a marrying man, so children were altogether nonexistent possibility. I didn't even know the wails outside my house were a babes. But there you were."

He had my rapt attention, "Little bundle squirming, and I didn't pick you up at first. I looked around to find whoever put you there, and tell them to choose another house," he was teasing, but I knew there was some truth in it, "so I had to bring you inside. The wolves would have got you, or some other creature."

"Shame on you stealing monster food," I chuckled.

His eyes glittered, "I almost left you, but there was something about you. I suddenly felt so sure examining your pale hair," I touched his equally paled hair, "and those green eyes," I touched my eyes, "you captivated me Sera, and I couldn't give you up. Even when the Clave came to claim you, I couldn't let you out of my arms. You were so small, and no one had wanted you," his eyes shimmered and I wondered if this was the first time I would see him cry.

"I spoke strongly as if it was the truth. _She is mine_, I said," he was holding his imaginary baby; "She is my little girl."

"The rest is history," I said, "I was destined for greatness, the Chosen One, Seraphina Fell," I grinned at him not used to seeing him so solemn. He had little reason to be sad.

"It was all history," he repeated.

I felt more tired, but lighter. I returned to my seat wiping my eyes feeling surprisingly more at ease than I had ever been in a while. Father was already his normal self, no tears shed at all.

"What a day," I said, "First Amatis in the morning, then the Clave, and now this," I gave an exasperated breath.

"What did you say about the Clave?"

I winced, "About that," I went into depth about what Adam had told me, about Aline revealing me meeting with a supposed mundane which I made clear was not, the Clave knowing, and the very possibility they were at the doorstep this very moment. For better or less words he was pissed.

"Why would you converse with a mundane? Why would you even want to?"

_Wow_, dad a little racist, "_Hey_, he is my friend. First of all he is not a mundane he has markings which make him Nephilium, and the reason he isn't recorded in the Archives is because he keeps to himself because he likes it that way."

He was fuming, "It's a boy?"

"No, you got a girl, remember," he did not think it was funny, "Dad, I have been meeting him for a while. Since I was eleven actually, and it is perfectly fine. He already knew about Shadowhunters, and Alicante, and he is actually a really good listener." Look at me sticking up for Jon, he would be so proud. He would be furious that I was telling someone about him, when I swore to keep my mouth shut for eternity.

_Oh please Jon_, have mercy on me.

"Is that supposed to make it better?"

"No, but it was innocent dad. We are friends." I was lying through my teeth, and he was too furious to get over the fact that it was a boy, which surprised me since I thought he would be more worried about the Clave knowing.

Apparently it only mattered if he knew.

"Why have you been keeping this from me? I could have stopped this dire situation before it ever took hold in our lives. How can you keep this a secret for so long?"

Is he kidding me, "Why were you keeping this from me," I pointed between me and him, and his forehead creased, "you are sounding a little hypocritical to me."

"I was doing it to protect you," he said.

"From what?"

"From everyone," he shouted.

He was standing now his green skin hued with red, and I couldn't help but go on the defensive.

"I can take care of myself," my voice rose, "I am of age now."

He crossed his arms, "Then why do you insistently choose acts that prove otherwise. Going against the Clave, vandalism, breaking and entering, brawling with Aline Penhallow, secret rendezvous with that Ravenkey boy, and to top it all off you are meeting with some secret Nephilium boy," I smirked at that, "that has jeopardized your safety in a way that I cannot protect you from, or pay for. Do I need to go on?"

I smacked my lips, "I never asked you to protect me. I can take care of myself now if it is such a huge problem," I could even tell how childish I sounded, but my pride was wounded.

"Have some sense Sera; you wouldn't last two days alone in the mundane world."

I indicated to Duma, "As I said, I can take care of it."

He gave a brief laugh, "You can't protect yourself when you are the perpetrator to your own troubles. You have the emotional stability of someone half your age, and your selfish antics rule your every decision. How can someone have trust in that?" he breathed deeply, "There may come a day when you change, but I highly doubt it would be any day soon."

"Then I will be out of your hair," I pushed off the chair stalking towards the door, "I would hate to cause you any more trouble with my _selfishness_," the door was already in reach when his voice rose louder than I had ever heard.

"SERAPHINA!" I flinched at the sound.

"Stop right there Seraphina," he used my full name. He was furious for sure.

I turned around, and he pointed at my seat, "sit down, we aren't done."

I stomped my feet back to my seat, and sat down like a petulant child. There was a part of me that wished this would happen, and my cheeks flushed in shame for my manipulative nature. At the back of my mind I knew he was right, though I would never say it outright.

I was tired of fighting or arguing. Instead of making this even worse, I sat in silence hoping that he would get on it, so that I could deal with the Clave, and then maybe go for an extended vacation, _indefinitely_. If the Clave didn't banish me, that is.

He put his face in his hands, "Do the sins of our fathers have to affect us, and follow us wherever we go?"

"I wouldn't know," I murmured feeling hateful, "I never knew my real father," this all felt too surreal, maybe tomorrow I would understand this, but now I felt numb.

His voice was tentative, "Do you want to?"

My breath caught in my throat.

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**DUn...Dun...dun...dun!**

**Cliffhanger!**

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_**from the sunny beaches,**_

_**beachchick3**_


	5. Chapter 4

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**Special Thanks to Guest, MormoLover, and TomorrowGirl! **

**Guest: I know! I think Sera rocks too!**

**MormoLover: He is evil! I am thinking of the name right now, but we will see. **

**Tomorrowgirl: I hope to keep it up!**

**_This chapter is dedicated to you Tomorowgirl! I hope it keeps things interesting! _**

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**Chapter 4 **

Strawberry Swing

**May 20, 2001**

**(6 years ago)**

One thing about this guy is he did not like talking. This was going to be a long day.

"Do you have parents?"

He swallowed down the strawberries I brought, ignoring my question.

"Hmmm… are you listening?" his eyes darted to me, and then focused back on the fruit I brought.

I know he heard me, and he was not getting away so easily this time. These past months he would treat me as… well… as a lunch-lady. He would come, take his food, and leave without a thank you. Gratitude went a long way especially when a certain someone was slicing, preparing, and packaging fruit at eight in the morning, and then having to sneak it past her Mentor. Not to mention that the said fruit was mostly eaten by him. Yes, gratitude went a long ways indeed.

One thing about me is I am not in any way a lunch-lady; my hair would look atrocious in those fish-net hat things. The more important reason was no one ever ignored me, and got away with it.

I smacked my lips, "I asked you a question?"

I could tell he was enjoying it. He ate fast enough, and plenty of it to suggest so. I would have to resort to other means it would seem.

I grunted at him, and spoke in cave man, "Do-You" I pointed him, "Have-Parents?" I made two fingers at him, which could have meant anything, but it got the point across. I could have been telling him if he wanted two punches in the face, and maybe then he would listen properly. No, maybe he would sit there, and take them with silent grace.

I laughed at that thought.

He found none of this amusing.

"It is extraordinary," he swallowed, "how annoying you can be."

I took back the food, "It's extraordinary how annoying you can be," I mimicked him.

He tried to swipe them back but I put them far over my head, "You don't get to have any until you answer my questions."

"Why would I do that?" He probed a piece of the pineapple, tasted it, but discarded it into the grass field finding lacking. I noted not to bring that for next time.

He flicked another piece interested in watching it soar, "I have no reason to reveal to you anything I do not have to. I am even more apprehensive because you are so insistent on getting something out of me."

"I am just curious.

"So it would seem."

He did not trust me at all my anger flared, "Really I am!"

He did not look convinced, "Just to make things perfectly clear, we are just fruit buddies," he picked another piece of pineapple, "nothing more." The place where he was discarding the fruit was looking more like a fruit graveyard, than blades of wild grass. It had pineapple, mango, and watermelon which I was surprised since that was the best fruit I had ever tasted, and perhaps the most expensive to buy. There went my week's saving. What a waste! I was not going to be bringing fruit if he was just going to throw everything that did not suit his tastes.

"So, I am your fruit buddy?" _Buddy_ basically meant _friend._

"It was not mean to be a compliment," when did he ever give a compliment?

I ate a strawberry to occupy my mind. It gushed against my tongue the tangy seeded juice tamed my worries. It was amazing how the simple things tended to be the best in life. Jonathan seemed to think so with the way he was eyeing the container of berries in my lap.

The strawberries were still the victor of his preference, and they seemed to be taunting him with the way he was gawking at them.

"You are so picky," I flicked another pineapple at his shirt trying to rise something out of him; "well at least the birds are going to eat good today."

"I suppose," he said nonchalantly.

He leaned back, but I could already tell what he wanted. It was getting easier to understand his body language. He stretched his arms over his head, and then lunged, but he didn't succeed. I _tsked_ him, "Not so fast there. I am your guest, and as a guest you have to have the courtesy to respect me, or I will not give you any strawberries."

"Fine," he shrugged, "a question for a strawberry?"

"Agreed," I lifted my hand to him.

"What?"

"You shake it," I placed it closer to his face; "it makes things official."

"_Okay_," what was he an alien from Mars? Everyone knew what a handshake was.

He took my hand in his, and then pulled me towards him ripping the bag of strawberries out of my hand. Some spilled out as we both rolled in the grass, but as always I was victorious.

"Who's Yo Mama?!" I took the scrumptious fruit popping one in my mouth for good measure.

His face got red, "Give me a strawberry!"

"No," I popped another in my mouth, "you didn't say please."

"_Please_," he whispered.

"What was that? I didn't catch that?"

"I'm not going to beg," he crossed his arms looking adorable, but I would never tell him that.

"Begging sounds really good about now," he grimaced.

His hands clenched, "It would ever be most kind if you could give me a strawberry please," he made the gimmie-gimmie hand, and I was torn between throwing the strawberries at his sarcastic face, or leaving him to his own strawberry-less state.

Though I was not him, "Only if you keep your promise, and no going back on your word."

"I am tired of you pestering me, this better be fast," he stuck his hand out, "Deal, Chatterbox?"

I took the chance, and was surprised when he didn't pull me down and overpower me like before.

"Alright Lover Boy, first question, what is your name?"

"Jon," I withheld the strawberry, "Jon… what?"

"I answered your question," he swiped the strawberry, and I gasped.

"You aren't playing fair, your whole name, at least give me a middle one."

"Why?"

"You know my name," I accused him, "even though you never use it."

"Chatterbox suits you."

"Why can't I know your name? Is it as bad as I thought it was? It's probably is, your name would probably be Hagar, Fargis, Fitzherbert, or better yet Leopold."

"_Leopold_?" When he said it like that, I felt stupid.

"Well maybe not the last, I had a cat named Leopold. Father ate it, and I had nightmares for weeks," he didn't believe me, but most didn't.

"What's the problem?" I saw his face, "Awww, L.B. are you afraid I am going to tell someone?"

His silence was answer enough. I groaned, "You saved my life need I remind you, and it has been what, eleven months, no I think a whole year. If I would have told someone I would have by now. Besides it's not like anyone would believe me." That was just pitiful to think about. His face became contemplative, and I milked it, "it's not like I have many people to talk to."

"Why is it so easy to believe you," he studied my face.

I gave him my most innocent smile, "You are in love with my body," I did a shimmy, and he frowned at my behavior.

"You are repugnant when you act that way."

"I only do it because it bothers you," I teased.

"It does not make it any easier," he shifted father away from me.

"Why do you do that?"

"_What_?" He was trying to ignore me again.

"This," I pretended to act like him by scooting away, and looking at the ground in deep thought. This resulted in him looking even more confused.

He didn't get it, "You try to go off into your own world? If you don't want me to come then just say so," he didn't say anything, "At least then I will know what you are thinking. How do you think it feels to sit here, and get you to talk, and then you run off after eating all my snacks? I am sick and tired of this, and you know what is even sadder," he stared harder into the soiled ground, "the rocks you stare at give off more emotion."

He lifted his head, and his eyes were piercing, "Rocks share my sentiment when it comes to you."

_Was he joking?_ "You think you are so funny, don't you," I started to pack up my things, because I did not find this amusing at all. This would be the first time that I was leaving before he was, and I ignored my conscience telling me to sit back down and try harder.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounded panicked, but I could have been making that up. I tended to make up emotions for him, instead of him actually showing them. Our time together was getting pitiful if I was making things up just to make it interesting.

"Home."

"Why?"

"Isn't obvious, I am just bothering you, and you do not even talk to me."

"You're the one that wants to talk all the time," he frowned watching me bag up the fruit.

"It's what people do, Lover Boy, they talk to each other. In some countries it is rude to ignore people," as if he cared.

"If I talk will you stay," I grabbed the last of my things, "will you stay?" He made no move to help me retrieve it. He was going to throw a fit, and I smiled because I did not think it was possible for him to even know what that was.

"No," I breathed, "you are only saying that because I am leaving."

I got up with all my things, bending down to get the strawberries that were in his lap.

"_Please_," he held tightly to the strawberries I was tugging at, "please stay, Sera."

_Oh mighty Raziel_, he said it.

Sure he was desperate, but he still said it. He said my name.

"This once," the words tumbled off my tongue, and I had no choice but to sit down not moving to unpack anything just yet.

It was awkward now, and neither of us made a move to start the conversation. I guess it was up to me. _Where were we?_ "Just tell me, your name. I think I have the right to know, unless your name is Leopold? If it is then these little meetings are going to have to stop right now."

"It's not Leopold!" he shouted. He noticed that he yelled and he repeated it quietly once more.

"Okay okay it's not. Well, what is it," I plucked another strawberry watching him debate with himself.

"It is Christopher," he said softly, "Jonathan Christopher." _Jonathan_, I put the name with the solemn face of my fruit buddy. The name went with the way he did every move with purpose. The thoughtful gaze he made without even trying and the fact that he was the reigning champion for brooding in silence.

Yet, out of the blue he would say things that just blew me away, and I couldn't help but like him. It was very rare that people would surprise me; it was mostly me surprising everyone else.

Yes, he was very much like the first Jonathan Shadowhunter, probably who he was named after.

"Jonathon Christopher," the name struck a shiver in me, and I wanted to repeat it over and over, because a name never suited anyone the way it did him, "the name suits you."

He looked at odds with himself, and he rubbed his shoulders, "I shouldn't be talking to you."

My heart tightened, but I knew I could convince him, "You shouldn't but that's what makes it so much fun. Okay question two, what is your favorite color?"

At least this was an easier topic, "What type of question is that?"

"The next question, so answer it."

"Red," he said, grabbing a strawberry.

"Why?"

"It just is," He flicked another piece of pineapple, "What is yours?"

"Black," I began examing my cuticles focusing on not showing my blush. It was not black a year ago, and I knew what had changed it.

"_Why_?" He echoed my question.

"It just is," I chuckled.

"You are very strange girl," he examined me, "if you didn't amuse me so much I wouldn't be wasting the time."

"You are just as strange, though that is not why I come every Sunday," I countered.

"Really? You don't find me humorous."

"Never in a million years," I confessed.

"Your cruel," he smirked.

"I am not cruel only truthful. My dear fruit buddy, remember to leave the funniness to me, when it comes to our relationship."

He didn't like the word _relationship_, "Explain yourself?"

"You are one of my best friends," I said simply, "I can tell you anything."

"We are not friends," he dug his heels into the ground, "we cannot be anything more than acquaintances."

"Is this because I kissed you," he flinched, "because I already apologized about that."

"It is not that. The greatest weakness of man is love. Love is the death of duty. The duty to reach your absolute best," there he goes ranting about duty, honor, love, and _yada-yada_, "if I am to be the man my father wishes for me to be, then I cannot have space in my life for weakness."

"So you do have parents!" I knew he would slip up one day.

"WHAT?"

"You said you have a father," I had him good now.

He was outraged, "When did I say that?"

"You said it, just then when you were talking about honor, and how you die if you love, and becoming the greatness of something like that."

"Did you listen to anything you I said?"

I shrugged, "I went blank after the first words. Jonathan, you can't expect me to listen to every word you say. Especially since whenever you do like talking it's about the greater good, and some greater purpose or something. It all sounds stupid to me."

"Stupid? You find honor to one's family stupid?"

I fisted the ground, "Now you're twisting my words!"

"I am only reiterating what you just said." He stood up, "I don't have time for this anymore, and I need to go. It is getting late."

The sun was not going to set yet, and it was hardly late. I felt like complaining and saying that, _our time wasn't over yet._

I couldn't help it, "But you haven't answered all of my questions yet."

"Yes, I am well aware," he got up leaving and I noticed that he looked crestfallen.

"Hey!" I handed over the bag of all the strawberries.

"Here, you should take some for the walk home." He grabbed the bag of strawberries. My fingers brushed against his palm, and tingles shot through my arm. Did he feel that? It didn't seem so because he walked away without a word. _Your welcome Mr. Ungrateful!_

He looked mad. Did he really get upset over what I said? I did not intend to put any of his beliefs down, and I was surprised that he would feel this way. He was so smart, and why did he care what I thought of him? The black of his eyes looked defeated.

I noticed that sometimes he would leave feeling satisfied, but most of the time it was fearful and morose looking. Was his father kind to him? Did his mother care about where he went every Sunday? I really hoped that they did.

I wiped my soiled hands on my gear watching him leave. I better just leave him alone, though when did I ever listen to my conscience.

"Jonathan!"

He turned and his eyes were hard.

"Don't listen to me; you are ten times as smarter than me, even if you are a horrible fruit buddy!"

He gave me a grimace, and walked away.

I could have told you that my words didn't have an effect on him, but they did. He walked with such prideful strides I was surprised that he didn't fly. I was so giddy that I stood there watching him.

I memorized the way he took his strides with purpose, the last glimpse of his white head, and the leather black gear disappeared into the trees, my happiness leaving with him.

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**_Next review has the next chapter dedicated to them!_**

Tell me if you want this to be around Jonathan, or more around Seraphina! I am switching back and forth, but I am open to other consideration. 

**_from the sunny beaches,_**

**_beachchick3_**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hola everyone! I hope you are having a fun summer! We are halfway through, and i can't believe it, if you haven't gone to the beach i suggest you do before it is jam packed in August****! Everyone goes in August :) **

**Well here is the next chapter! We go back to Sera's POV, but i promise way more Jonathan in the future. We still have a long way to go! **

**Thanks Guest 2: I must confess I am fascinated with the Mortal ****Instruments world too! **

******THIS IS DEDICATED TO Guest 1! I agree we will give the love by the ton to Jon!... though if he will even tolerate it is another story entirely**

**Spoiler: This will reveal Sera's parentage, but let me tell you that things are not always as they seem...vague i know... Remember that in the Mortal Instruments parentage is at times not true at a first glance, but things will definitely reveal themselves in time. Alright enough go on enjoy the fifth chapter.**

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**Chapter 5 **

Sins of Our Fathers

**June 20, 2007**

_He put his face in his hands, "Do the sins of our fathers have to affect us, and follow us wherever we go?"_

_"I wouldn't know," I murmured feeling hateful, "I never knew my real father," this all felt too surreal, maybe tomorrow I would understand this, but now I felt numb. _

_His voice was tentative, "Do you want to?"_

_My breath caught in my throat._

"Yes," my voice was so small.

"Do recall Sera of what I said previously about truth," I remembered alright, "Sometimes it is better not to know, than having to live with the consequences of awareness of that truth."

"I can't think like that," I said, "I want to know the truth. I need to know," but did I really want to know who he was? Would it even matter, I had never seen this man which meant he didn't care or… No, if I never knew than I would always be pondering or hoping while never really knowing what or who he was.

"Please, Ragnor reveal to me what you know," confidence rang in my voice.

His eyes widened, "When I met your father for the first time I was moved with how elegant he spoke, with an iron bound conviction. From that first moment I knew he was meant for bigger things, for leading."

He played with his hands, "You have his hair color," I smiled sadly, because I always attributed my hair color to Ragnor. It was the one thing we shared, and now all I could do was sigh.

"Go on," I urged him.

"I don't know how to tell you."

"From the beginning then," I smirked, it's what he told me when I was at loss for words.

"Your real father… was training at the Shadowhunter Academy. I came for a Clave meeting, and they had sent for me since I was the nearest warlock and could detect some of the problems they were having with opening and closing some Portals from Alicante to the Americas."

I leaned my cheek upon my palm getting comfortable for his story, "I had resigned as the Warlock of London, and wanted to live a peaceful, and uncomplicated life away from the tribulation of customers, and unwarranted requests. The Clave promised that, so I came. Being a Warlock is tough business," I coughed loudly, _he was getting off topic_, "Well right, I decided to kill time before the meeting and watch some of the younger Shadowhunters train, keeping to the shadows since I would have caused quite a disturbance. I made sure I was hidden from plain sight. "

"Those retched fan girls," I teased, "they can't get enough of you Dad."

He touched his horns self-consciously, "I am well aware of my appeal."

"I was just kidding dad," I muttered, "I have always thought you handsome, even though you don't believe so." I meant every word. My dad was one of those beautiful people that didn't accept that they were beautiful people. In other words he was an _instant chick magnet_, which made me barf a little.

He lost his train of thought, "I stuck to the shadows," he repeated, "Downworlders are prohibited from the City of Idris, and I felt quite rebellious with my permission to come," it was good to see Dad smile.

"Ragnor Fell being rebellious," I scoffed, "someone call the Vatican."

He ignored me with decorum, "Your father was taking down a man twice his size, and caught my attention early on. He won the fight so easily I thought it a mistake. But then he did it repeatedly with several other fighters. That was not what surprised me most. After he fought he taught his rivals how to do the training technique correctly, and the others listened to him so effectively I thought he must have been at least eighteen. To my surprise I was told he was only fifteen, and was known as the prize Shadowhunter Idris had seen yet."

"He already had a parabatai, his name was Luke," that sounded familiar.

He stopped for a response, and I urged him to continue, "He also had his sights on doing more than fighting demons of the Shadow World. Many didn't know it then, but his charm and wit made many other young Shadowhunters listen, and follow him. Even the instructors I spoke to were amazed, no more so they were proud of having such a warrior for Idris. I agreed with that, I had never seen anyone so talented, and I have seen many Shadowhunters in my day."

"Ewww, Dad," I teased.

"Be mature Sera," he parented, "he became _acquainted_ with a Shadowhunter girl early on, her name was Jocelyn," he said, and paused.

My eyebrows furrowed, "Stop doing that, keep going."

"I didn't see much of him after that, or much of anyone, but I did hear things. Despite that he married the girl at an early age."

I hummed, "Is this where you tell me he was the Immaculate Conception or something. A person cannot be that perfect," I wished I was wrong.

"That was what many people thought, but they were wrong. We were all so wrong, and blind to what true intentions he had."

"What could be so bad"— I shrieked. It all came crashing down. In the back of my head I had been searching of the name Luke, and now I knew exactly who Luke was and who… my father… oh god!

"You are lying!"

"Why would I do this to you?"

I held my thumping chest, "This is punishment for all the trouble I have caused."

"You are his daughter, Sera. I wouldn't force this truth on my worst enemy."

"This isn't true," I felt incredibly dizzy, "I am not his daughter," _I'm yours_, I wanted to say, _I'm your daughter, you're my father. _

I couldn't breathe, and I fell on the ground retching, but nothing came. All that came was unattractive barfing sounds exploding out of my sore throat. I had not eaten anything all morning, and my stomach rumbled in anger for the deprivation I was causing it.

Ragnor Fell tried to help, but I pushed him away.

I was back in my seat, and he was near the fire staring into it with his dark unmoving eyes. His forearm leaning against the mantle, and I knew he was trapped in the catacombs of his mind.

We were both statues. I couldn't speak, move, or breathe too loudly in fear of upsetting my moment of calm. I didn't want him to say anymore, but he continued. He had warned me after all, before I pleaded like a child for things I had no idea about.

"Valentine," I stiffened, "your real father," he was trying to get me used to it, "made his followers into a group called The Circle, and molded these young men and woman into brash weapons that he would use towards his goals. Though he did not act brashly," he eyes met mine, and I shivered, "he waited first by starting a family. He married Jocelyn Fairchild moved into the Fairchild Manor, I heard. He had you a few years after."

"How many?" I asked.

"Two at the most." My mind shifted through my history of what I had remembered about Valentine Morgenstern, and I noticed that he was always the villain of Idris. I shivered, because I hope I didn't get that from him.

"Why did he leave me," I said hoarsely, my voice hurt.

"Don't talk," he pleaded, "I will get there."

"The night I found you was the night the Jocelyn Fairchild went into labor. I heard latter on, that she had no idea of your existence then."

"My mom knows about me," I shrieked, "I have a mom," I said in awe the image of my mom was birthed in my mind; a kind face, pale hair, and green eyes like mine.

He gave me a look.

"Sorry, please go on."

"He," paused for a long moment, "turned for the worse a while after. I stayed home since I was staying with you, but I heard of rumors surrounding his house of meetings, and uprisings. He was in rage of what happened to…"

I interrupted, "Luke Graymark. Amatis' brother turned into a werewolf. I know the whole story," Amatis had said it more than enough times. He was another of her major regrets, poor Amatis, she was probably losing her mind right now.

He continued, "He attacked the Clave with everything he had," the flames of fire crackled, and Ragnor moved the burning logs with a red hot-poker, "He was planning to attack during the Accords when all the Downworlders were in the Hall, bloody idiot," his English accent was leaking through, "The Uprising was a failure, he had a traitor in his midst, and lucky for us Jocelyn did betray her husband or we would be all-hating Downworlders, and I would have probably left that night with you."

"He is a monster," I whispered.

"I suppose you could say that," Ragnor pondered my phrasing, "but he was made a monster not born one, remember that Sera."

I was honestly curious, "Why do you protect him?"

"He is your real father," he said simply, "and therefore a part of you. He is a part that no magic, iratze, or god-saving power can change."

I shrugged, "I don't know," I thought of Amatis my mentor and my guardian, and what she would say about Valentine being my father.

I missed Amatis so much right now. I wondered how much she knew, because never in my whole life had she shown me an ounce of hatred.

My dad poked the fire once more, "Does it not bother you? That you are affected so intimately by the sins of your father?"

"How?"

"You could have had a real family," he said, and the idea never occurred to me.

"You would have had a normal Shadowhunter life. A mother and a father, and perhaps some siblings," it was a beautiful dream, "Does it not bother you? If he were to ask your forgiveness would you give it," his words were barely a whisper.

"Would you?" I turned it back, "would you with yours?"

He stared back into the fire, "I have delt with mine, and hopefully that is enough," he said darkly. It occurred to me how powerful my father had at that moment. He was born with it. Magic is beautiful as much as it is terrifying. The saying goes that as much as you used it, the more it used of you. Ragnor Fell was no exception to this rule, and the weariness of ages past weighed down on his shoulders.

Finally I was not thinking of myself anymore, and I felt awake to the world.

"How did you meet my mother?"

"She came to me," I raised an eyebrow.

"She came in the dead of night, and I already knew who she was," he said slowly, "I hid you before she came in, and I told you to be quite even though you didn't understand a word I said."

"I wouldn't have listened anyways," I took a sip of the cold tea, and then gulped it down whole. Then I went into the kitchen looking for something more satisfying. I asked him to follow and continue the story, while I made us something to eat.

He waited till I washed the dishes and counters, prepared breakfast, and then we were seated both of our mouths otherwise occupied. We gave small smiles now and then, but there was an evident rift in our relationship now. We were not the same, and I knew it would be awhile before things went back to normal.

When we had eaten our fill, I felt my will come back stronger. It felt good to get meat in my empty belly and a helpful serving of eggs to go with it.

"My mother came to you," me.

"Yes, she was distraught, and she was not thinking clearly. I gave her a cup of tea, but she would not stop shaking, and her eyes kept darting around like a scared animal."

My eye caught the Mormo little demon in the corner. It stuck its tongue out, and I ignored it, but thought better and threw some food inside of its cage.

"Did Jocelyn find out about me," I asked, "did she ask for me?"

"Why would she?"

"Well she is my mother," I shifted in my seat, "you told me she knew."

"Jocelyn Fairchild is not your mother," he said clearly knowing I had misunderstood him, "your mother's name was Lana Pontmercy, the wife of Michael Wayland."

_"What?"_ Another surprise.

"Lana Pontmercy was your mother. I knew from her greenish-blue eyes, and the pale hair. You were her twin, well in baby form."

My father and mother were not married when they had me? I was too numb to be surprised about anything right now. If Ragnor told me I was secretly an angel and a demon I would have accepted it with grace. Numbness has a way of omitting your emotions.

My mouth was dry, I searched for water. "I was unaware of another Pontmercy other than Jeremy Pontmercy."

"Your uncle did not like talking about her," a silent rage grew in my gut, "When watching the other children, she was oddity ever since she was little. Such oddities in all societies are disregarded and pushed outside the fabrics of success and greatness. But she was surely odd, she told others that she could fly, she could breathe fire," he said finally.

I took a sip of my water, "Fly? Breathe Fire? Was my mother a nut?"

"Not that I remember."

"You're just saying that. Great I have the crazy genes," I huffed rubbing my full belly.

"We already were assured of that fact," Father teased, "Many thought she had fey blood, they said her mother mated with a warlock, and she was cursed by a witch, but how am I supposed to know? People say nasty things, but you were her exact image right to the little button nose." Awww, he made me sound cute.

"What happened, when Lana Pontmercy came?" The name felt foreign on my tongue, but it felt right saying it.

"She was just sitting there," he pointed at my seat at the table, and suddenly this chair was no longer a normal chair. It was the chair my mother sat in, "her eyes kept shifting everywhere, and she wouldn't land on my face too long? I think the horns scared her."

"Then what?"

"I asked her," he tried to remember, "why did she come this way? Did she need something? She confessed that she had left a baby girl here; a year ago, and she wanted to know what I had done with it. I asked her why she wanted to know. She asked my permission to meet you. She had just had her second son, and she couldn't take the guilt anymore."

I felt like I was at the movies watching a film, and not listening to my actual younger years of life.

"I told her she better leave," I felt disappointed with him, "I told her there was nothing here for her, and she should be back at home with her husband because he would be surely missing her. That was when she broke down, and begged me to let her see her child."

"Don't tell me you kicked her out?" He was not that heartless. Then I actually thought of how others viewed my father as the stoic grumpy warlock that refused more customers than any other warlock in prerecorded history. I was suddenly afraid of what my birth mother had to face when she wanted to come back into my life.

Apparently he thought the same way, "Greater Demons No! I would never. She was far too heavy for me to carry out."

He needed work on his humor, "Very funny."

"When I took you out, she wouldn't even hold you until I put you in her lap. I am going to be explicitly and selfishly honest with you," his cheeks blushed, "I was proud of the way you reached for me instead of her. It meant I was doing something right, and I was inherently glad when you cried loudly until you were back in my own arms."

"I am loyal to those that feed me," I grabbed a banana from the kitchen.

"She told me that you looked happy here, and I assured her that you would be very happy here with me," I smiled fondly at my father for a moment, "she told me that she would be back the next week, but the week came and went, and she never came back. I looked into what happened to her at the Wayland Manor, before it was burned down. Michael Wayland had told me that she had run off with a vampire. I couldn't believe it; she was cheating with two men."

I threw the banana peel at him, "Don't call my mother a whore!"

He dodged it. "But I didn't," I opened my mouth getting angrier, "Alright Sera, calm down the remark was no meant to be offensive."

"How did you know Valentine was my father?"

"Jocelyn Fairchild," he simply said, "she knew everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, every little detail, and she told me everything."

I suddenly knew this was going to get very interesting. I was settling down for another lecture session when there were two loud knocks at the door. I instantly froze, and gave dad a frightened expression. It was the Clave.

He told me to be silent by putting an index finger to his lips. I nodded, but pulled out Duma ready for whatever was behind that front door. He grabbed the instruments for a Portal preparing for a speedy getaway.

"Ragnor!" The voice yelled, and we both froze.

It knocked repeatedly, "Open the damn door, it's hot out here, and it's ruining my hair!"

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**_I wonder who that can be! _**

**The person that finds out will have the next chapter dedicated to them! LOVE YOU ALL! WILL UPDATE Soon as i can ! **


	7. Chapter 6

**Thank you guys so much! I love how many views i am getting from this fanbase!**

**This chapter is DEDICATED TO ****SpiritGirl19****! you are amazing! **

**here is the next chapter! More Jonathan as requested!**

* * *

**Chapter 6 **

Little Piece of Heaven

**(2 years ago)**

**June 5, 2005**

He was late.

This never happened.

I sighed to myself curious to what was keeping him. If he was any other person I would have been worried, but I wasn't.

He could take care of himself just fine. In the meantime I was enjoying myself too much to care about trivial things such as lateness. I lay in the middle of an open field. Lukewarm sun pulsated on my open neck, chest, bare outstretched arms and legs. It felt good, not uncomfortable. My hair fell around in a white halo around my head. The strands tickled my forehead as the breeze tumbled along the long grass. I crossed my bare legs tapping the air to the sound of the _whoosh_ _whoosh _of the wind.

My soul felt like it could fly, "The wind was gently touching the grass," my voice carried out across the empty field, "We were so young, so fearless. Then I dreamt o'er and over, of you holding me tight under the stars. I made a promise to my dear lord, I will love you forever."

It was such beautiful song, and my voice did it no justice. I hummed the rest entranced with the nature that surrounded me, and thoughts of muscled arms holding me close. If I made no noise, and lay very still I knew that the grass would envelop me here and now and I could become one with it. But I was human, so that mean I had to eat sometime.

I heard a branch crack, and I leaned up my calm frame of mind evaporated.

"Jon?"

It couldn't be someone from the city. It was too far for anyone to roam for sport or pleasure.

"Jon, is that you?" No answer. I thought it was an animal, and I placed my hand on my seraph blade prepared to fend myself. But it was no animal, and I smirked at my late companion.

"You kept me waiting," and all I got was bend of the head from him.

He was memorable. His cropped hair that was equally as platinum blond as mine, his dark orbs that were friendly on occasion was blank in contemplation, and his handsome lips were scrunched as if he had tasted something sour. Jon was in a bad mood.

"Are you okay," another nod.

I gave him a warm smile as he sat beside me. I offered him some strawberries, but he kindly refused with a flick of his wrist. His demeanor betrayed nothing, and I knew something was wrong. I would have to force it out of him if I ever wanted to know. If he had it his way we would never talk. But we would see.

"Well," I started, "I learned a new technique?" That would usually whet his mood for conversation, but he remained unresponsive.

Today he just seemed like he needed some down time.

"_Okay_," I mumbled.

He brought his knee up, and looked out in front of him pondering something troubling by the looks of it. How did he do that? How can he look so good-looking even when he was pissed off? I did a look over, especially when he is pissed off. The past five years he had matured, and got muscle in all the right places. I still can't believe that we were fifteen, and our training was coming to a close. Eight years was more than enough to become a trained Shadowhunter. I bet Jon was ready the day he was born.

It wasn't fair; men were so much better built for battling than the female physique. He knew that it made me jealous.

He knew I was checking him out, and he lifted up one eyebrow.

I ducked my head at being caught, "Okay, I get it no staring," I took another bite out of the strawberry.

It seemed that some people were endowed with awesome genetic traits and others for being grand conversationalist. That is just the way it is. Sometimes I wished he noticed I was a girl, instead of just a talking chatterbox. It didn't help that he was a good listener.

Sometimes I needed to just shut up for once.

I respected that.

I wasn't feeling selfish to tell him about Aline Penhallow's birthday coming at the end of June, that Adam' girlfriend might or might not be cheating with him, or the fact that I had won another round of awards for the Alicante Demon Marathon. I felt like gloating to every person I came across. Though I doubted he was up to hearing that about. His opinion on such tournaments was that it was prematurely childish, and detrimental when dealing with the Shadow World.

I took a page out of his book, and just sat there to my own thoughts.

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and got comfortable; he would talk when he was ready.

So I waited,

And waited,

And waited a little more,

And before I knew it I fell asleep.

I woke up feeling sticky and sweaty, both that were not sexy unless Jon liked that type of stuff. The sun was about to set which would have frightened me when I was younger, but I knew these forest like the back of my hand. We watched the sun set on the horizon disappearing behind the trees, and streaming through while it made its descent.

It was amazing how much you understood people when you chose just to remain silent, and experience being alive with another person. I looked at him from the side of my eye, and I was in awe of his handsome features, but more importantly how powerful his gaze could be. I sighed, and he caught my eye. I gave a half smile, and he just turned back to the sunset his platinum hair had an orange glow. I noticed that mine did also.

"We have orange hair," he shushed me.

"Watch," he reminded me, and I did catching the last light of the day. Another day gone and another to come.

If this was a romance movie I would have leaned into him, but Jon would kill me if I touched him when it was unnecessary. He had _touch_ issues, and I had come to terms with it a while ago.

"Do you imagine" he licked his lips, "the millions of other people that are watching the same sunset, and if they stop for just one moment to stop thinking," we were silent except for our breathing, "they will understand what it means to be truly alive."

Where does he come up with this? Does he read my mind or something? I don't believe in fate, but when I think of Jon, and the field that we spend every Sunday, I can't help but feel like it is. Like I am mean to spend every Sunday for the rest of my life coming here and watching the sunset with him, and that would be enough.

That this little field, is our own little piece of heaven.

At least that is how I about our sanctuary away from home.

"I don't know," the light left the sky, and we were left in shadows, "But I think if they heard you they would."

"You have too much faith in me."

"Or I see you for who you are," I answered.

"Who is that, may I ask?"

"The boy that saved a girl. I was a complete stranger, and you did it anyways. I don't know about you but that sounds selfless to me. If the roles were reversed I don't think I would have had the strength to do what you did. You are strong and selfless Jonathan, and that is a person worth listening to."

"You are demented into an illusion," he sighed, "You could have sufficed with the last sentence."

"You are also an asshole, but if it wasn't for your listening then I would not put up with you," he made me so angry. I open up to him, and he always shots me down like some dimwit fool.

"Now that sounds like a more reasonable answer."

"Whatever, for the record you are both."

In the shadows there was a sense of privacy, and I had never been afraid of the dark so this was a relaxing experience for me.

Sitting next to Jon would have calmed in all the problems of my life. If I had to stand in front of the Council again for my crimes, for telling my trainer I did not study the next Shadowhunter wars, or against bloodthirsty Greater Demons Jon could make it through anything. I think some moments he seemed untouchable or unstoppable when it came to any challenge.

Bless me his stubbornness and competitive side was going to be his downfall.

"For the record," he copied me, "I thank you."

I gasped, "Wow, did you just thank me?"

"I am capable of showing gratitude." His nose wrinkled, and I could tell I offended him.

"It's just the first time I heard you say it."

"I don't say something unless I mean it," he said outright. He sounded so complete when he said that, and I was a little jealous at how assured he was of himself. I had to give myself a pep-talk before stepping out the front door, but Jon knew himself, and that was what made him darn so attractive.

"I say everything I am thinking," I tried to lighten the mood, "no fliter, just word vomit_." Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ now you sound like a complete moron, I thought.

"I have noticed," he stretched back and pushed himself off the ground.

I noticed this was about the time that he had to leave.

He nudged me to tell me he was leaving, and I couldn't help but frown.

He leaned down to my ear, "I hope you enjoyed your sleep," his voice was deep and my body shivered.

I groaned in frustration. I was upset that the whole Sunday I had with him was wasted because I decided to go pantry stealing with Adam last night. _Damn_, my traitorous body had to fail me when it came to Jonathan.

"I know what you are going to say it is my entire fault. But I had a good reason this time, last night was kind of busy," I tried explaining.

He dusted off his black pants, and strutted away the same way he came. I had a wonderful view, and I suddenly felt like the _pervy boyfriend_, which was becoming commonplace now. I had never done this before, and I was dismayed to think that this would ruin our little _rendezvous Sunday thing_-_mahbob_ we had going.

I scratched my bed hair, "So, next Sunday?"

He would probably ditch me for the rest of the summer, and I felt like I deserved it after my little stunt.

He turned around, and I thought he was going to give me one of his signature frowns, but instead he turned around and blinked one eye at me. I felt my mouth slacken, and my heart race.

I stood up almost tripping over myself, "Did you just wink at me Jonathon Christopher?" I yelled after him.

He chuckled, "Goodnight, Seraphina."

I blushed not because of his attempt at flirting, but because he had said my name, my full name in that dark baritone, and that was by far the sexiest thing I had heard in my life.

I swooned.

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**I would swoon too if i was her :)**

**Alrighty review review will update soon!**

**Stay cool, and will update within two moons! -This rhyming thing is really not working :(**

**Have a great summer, and keep cool **

**beachchick3 **


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

Uncle Magnus

**June 20, 2007**

_ "Ragnor!" The voice yelled, and we both froze._

_ It knocked repeatedly, "Open the damn door, it's hot out here, and it's ruining my hair!"_

I gave a relieved sound, unbolting the door, and letting in the visitor. He scared me half to death, but I was never so happy to see him in my life.

"Uncle Magnus!" I greeted him with a warm hug.

"The one and only," he told us, and he returned the hug just as warmly. My senses were filled with strong cologne, sandalwood, and smoke sugary smell from the recent portal travel. My face met with his chest, and something prickled my soft cheek.

"Ouch," I said, "you hurt me."

"I have that affect on some woman," Magnus winked at me.

I finally could see what he was wearing, and as usual it was far cry of normal. He was wearing a prickly animal skinned jacket that went good with his tanned skin, hunter green pants ending with brown boots, and his hair was jelled into two dark-haired spiked horns that stuck up on either side of his face.

"Look how you have grown," he appraised me, "how long has it been?"

"Time goes by so slow here. Let's see, a few millennia," I mused, "At least three if we are being specific."

"Three years?" He looked surprised. Oh the _woes_ of being immortal.

"You haven't aged a day," I kidded with him, "I will take whatever it is that you are taking."

I flicked his hairs. The tips were painted white, and I could see where he got the inspiration. He was wearing the gold bracelet I made him for him last year. It said _Fashion Diva_, and Magnus promised he would always wear it, unless it clashed with his attire of course.

He touched the pricking jacket, "Porcupine skin," he explained, "keeps all the lovelies from putting their paws on me. I am a man of certain taste."

"We just have to beat them down right Uncle Magnus. But I think it is high time you settle down. When are you going to get a girlfriend?" My eyes wiggled at the insinuation.

"Depends on the type of girl," he said turning his attention to Ragnor, "Well Felly, you haven't been returning my calls? I think you are jealous of me now that I am on the market, and well you do not… but of course you have always been the lone wolf. Riding solo wherever you go," he smirked at my dad's frown.

"Why are you here Magnus?" Ragnor started putting away our escape act. It would seem the Clave had not made their appearance just yet.

"I am aghast Felly! What Uncle does not want to visit his lovely niece?" He ruined my combed hair with fierce jerks on my pony tail, and I escaped with ease, "especially when she has such a good sense of style," he eyed the uniform that gestured the "look-good" gesture. I gave him the thumbs up, and dad sighed. He hated when we bonded like that.

"You came, now go home."

"I bet you say that to all the sexy Warlock's that come over. But alas Ragnor I told you that you can't only like me for 'sex on legs' look," Magnus tried to get father's attention, but he already left, "stop playing hard to get, it doesn't work anymore."

Dad was always in a bad mood when Magnus came. He told me that Magnus was eccentric and an indecent role model, willing to go to all matters of length to achieve attention. It was the reason why Uncle Magnus and I got along so well.

"He doesn't want sexy Warlock Magnus," I teased, "He has me. I don't want to have an evil stepmother, or stepfather," I added for him, "they might take all of my father-daughter time. Then I would have to do away with her, and let's just not add another thing for the Clave to hate me for." Father's retreating back cringed when I mentioned the Clave, and Magnus caught that his smile growing.

"Naughty Sera-_belly_," he waved his finger at me his amber Asian eyes glowed with mirth, or was it the gold shimmering around them, "causing chaos for the poor Nephilium."

He tapped my chin playfully, and then turned to the work table in the middle of the room. Magnus was being nosey inspecting dad's things, "getting in trouble with the Law again. Ragnor taught you well."

I was thinking of a retort, when I saw Dad returned with quick steps.

Like lighting Ragnor descended, "Don't touch anything," Dad took away the open spell books Magnus was reading through, "you always steal my spells. If and when, you feel the urge to sneak through my things then get in line like everyone else."

"But that is such a large line," Magnus pouted at my Dad, "can I get the discount. I come here enough times."

"This isn't a rental store Magnus, don't touch my things!"

"Okay, _Geesh_ I won't touch," Magnus playfully poked a fake globe of the world, and dad looked ready to have a fit.

"Okay Sera, darling. What do you think?" He gave a twirl and I checked him out professionally.

"I don't know," I had already knew what he was going for; "you should have worn some thrift store Christmas PJ's, it would have gone better. I have to give it to you. It was a bit creative with painting your hair like horns, thank goodness for hair magic."

He touched the design as if I had offended it, "This is my soul." Only Magnus could say things like that and get away with it, "It tells how I only call my friends unless I want something. But the porcupine is an example of my inner ability to fend others off with my barbed wire demeanor. Plus I never have to go to the cleaners." So, he wanted to play that way… game on.

"Well I guess you just made me a believer," I said grinning at him so he knew I caught on.

"Oh believe me, this is just a teaser, the next outfit I have will surely give you seizures!"

"I hope it is not from another creature, or else I will have to be using tweezers."

He shrugged, "Let's just say if there was a crowd, there would definitely be some screamers."

"But all of your friends are seniors, surely they would break their femurs," I had him now.

"Not my peepers, they are more than geezers with fleshy features," how did he do that?

"I would call them all deceivers," take that Magnus Bane.

He leaned back and said, "Hunny, they would be at their leisure, to be my very own deceivers."

_And look who is the reigning champion_! I am.

"I win, I win. You can't use the same word twice!" I did a victory dance.

"But it went so well with it, next time just go with it," he couldn't tell me how to play the game.

"You are a cheater!"

"Well you don't understand the concept of the game."

Dad returned with a new cup of tea, "You both sound like children. What do you want Magnus? I am busy with my daughter," he was not in the mood for company. But yet again, when was he ever?

Instead of lingering on in the conversation I made myself useful. I was helping Dad clean around since I was stuck here anyways.

I hated cleaning, but surprisingly today it was keeping my mind busy from worrying about Amatis at home being invaded by the Clave, Adam in the square being worried about me, and Jon… I sighed. I didn't have to worry about him, I am sure he is perfectly fine. Though how could I not worry about him, think of him, fantasize his hands…. okay STOP! STOP right there Sera, get it together. The Clave is going to send you to kingdom come, and all you can think about is Jon's hands, his hands that are strong and so sure, and touched me so…uggghhh…. GAWD I had it bad!

I was in a shit heap of trouble, and it was my entire fault this time. After I cleared the coffee table, I turned and both of the Warlocks expressions had changed. They had silently communicated, behind my back.

"Okay, what are you guys hiding?" They stopped communicating.

Magnus swinged his hands back and forth whistling a song, and then began taunting the Mormo. Who was surprisingly taking to him very well, _why was that_? While dear old dad tried to look innocent.

They were definitely hiding something, "Why don't you go prepare the Alicorn he hasn't had a bath in a few days."

Like I would fall for that, "I washed Allie two days ago. I know what is happening here. You mean for me to go away while you guys gossip like old woman?"

"What he means," Magnus tone was forceful, "is go give the Alicorn a bath." I was taken aback by how serious he was, and for a moment I believed him.

He clucked, "Though it probably means the poor thing smells as bad as Ragnor's crone feet," he stared at dad's bare feet, "you haven't washed them in decades."

I couldn't believe someone else noticed, "Thank you, Magnus for worrying about my hygiene. Whatever would I do without your concern for how my cleanliness compares to un-bathed winged horse."

"As the saying goes," he tucked one of dad's potions in his pocket, "What are friends for?"

Well this was going on a long-winded road called nowhere. They were not even paying attention to anything but their little worlds called thoughts. I had a lot of experience dealing with immortals, and sometimes they needed a good kick in the shin to keep things going.

I sighed, "Well let's get to this going. Is this about Valentine?"

"What Valentine?" Magnus looked ready to combust, and I knew I had hit the nail on the head. Magnus was a hipster glamour girl stuck in the body of an immortal Warlock. He couldn't give up the chance to be dramatic.

"Valentine Morgenstern," I said slowly watching their faces, "supposedly the root of my very existence."

The bell chimed twice on the grandfather clock. It was twelve o'clock, and I couldn't believe it had only been six hours. Six hours that the Clave had not found me yet. _Dear Lord_, I needed to leave already. My whole life force felt like it had run a marathon.

"Valentine is the least of our problems right now," Dad said, "being that he is buried six feet under, " he did have a point.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Magnus mumbled opening the cage, and the Mormo pounced on his shoulder like a parrot. A furry razor teethed parrot that is. I was waiting for its little mouth to attack his jugular; my hands were near Duma just in case.

_Did he know something we didn't?_ "What was that?"

"Nothing," Magnus petted the little beast, "Nothing at all."

"What was that Magnus," Ragnor inquired repeating the question for me, "choosing to keep quite instead of voicing your opinion? If I recall correctly it is nowhere near my birthday?"

Magnus ducked into my favorite chair his legs spread out, "If you wanted me for your birthday, all you had to do is ask," The Mormo eyed the door, then it's gaze landed on me, and my seraph blade at my fingertips. I knew that my eyes were daring it just to see who would win.

It cuddled into Magnus open neck, _smart little thing_.

I hoped it got pricked with the porcupine jacket.

"Why are you still here?" I had no idea Magnus was talking to me, "go and do your chores."

I took a seat on my dad's armrest unwilling to leave, "Now Uncle Magnus, parenting doesn't suit you," I said, "I had more than my fair share this morning."

"Seraphina," my father warned, I placed a hand on his shoulder telling him physically that it was okay.

I thought it was time to start with the conversation, "I know Magnus. Father told me everything, and I think I have a right to know if it is about…" I took a breather, "my real father."

Magnus looked to Ragnor who had his head in his hands his cropped bleached hair faintly brushed his forehead. That was him being embarrassed. I noticed how Magnus Bane looked pleased with something, and then was instantly aware I was in the room.

He put up an act, "Ragnor isn't your father," he gave a fake gasp, "I had no idea about that. But you look so much alike, a stranger could tell you are both related. I mean you both have… things that are similar. So many similarities," he looked between us rubbing his chin, "Hmmm… You're… um…"

"I know Magnus. I know you aware of my origins. You and Dad tell each other everything. Besides you're acting foolish," _way to call the kettle black_, my conscious said.

"He doesn't have to act," father took another swig of his tea, "he is."

"There, you both like putting me down, that is your familial similarity," Magnus looked proud of himself, "that wasn't so hard."

"Magnus you know something about Valentine," I pleaded as best as I could, "tell us already," I was dying to know what he knew.

He moaned angrily sounding like an angry cat, "I'm so tired of having people asking me for things."

Magnus rolled his legs side to side using his heels, "You don't know how it feels," a pause, "except for you Ragnor," father lifted his tea, "In the good old days it was friends that gathered to ask favors, and now it is any dandy fellow that comes knocking for something. Especially the Nephilium," he said the word with new loathing, "coming in like they own the place, no offense Sera,"

"None taken," I knew the feeling.

"Where was I, _oh yes_, graceless needy customers. It's always the same, every damn day. Tell me something Magnus, make me a potion Magnus, erase this person's memory Magnus, where can I find my friend Magnus, put a Portal here Magnus, Try to be a better lover Magnus," Dad and I raised our eyebrows, "Not so much that one. But, Give out more drinks Magnus," he was thinking of more.

"Shut your mouth why don't you, Magnus," Dad requested.

"I've heard that one," Magnus gave a laugh under his breath.

Dad kicked his foot, "You want information little Sera, fine. Have you been informed of the demon activity over the years? Who do you think is responsible? There has to be something or better yet, someone that is opening the floodgate. I warn you both," me and dad watched Magnus become serious, "something big is coming. It's going to come down pretty soon, so I suggest you guys lay low for the next couple of months. There has been a lot of talk in the Black Market, The Dumont Hotel, and Fey Court of the creator of all these troubles."

Father agreed with him, "It is not only in New York, even around Idris," I raised my eyebrow I hadn't heard anything of the sort; "there has been some hints of something going on in the mundane world. More Shadowhunters sent out, and less returning. This is nothing new, but at the rates others are missing in action it has brought a lot of attention."

"Well it all makes sense now," he petted the Mormo, and sat quietly in contemplation. It was driving me crazy, how can they not see it?

My voice woke them both, "Why not just say his name? If Valentine is back then the Clave should know, scratch that everyone should know!"

"Names are powerful," Magnus contemplated, "especially when Morgenstern name is said in public. Though I would argue that only gives him more power, and the last thing we need is another Uprising, not when demons are getting through the barriers more and more these days."

I huffed moving to the window.

_Where is the Clave already?_

I moved the curtain aside peaking outside, and my mouth drooped at what I saw. Speak of the devil, and he will appear.

Dad sighed into his hands, "The Clave complains so much. It is a wonder how they decide to do anything. If demons are raising then the problem would pertain to the Clave. Who else is going to clean it up? I believe that the Clave will deal with this as they always have; with force first and questions later. That is if this is not all just a farce to bring back bad blood. Magnus, if your words are true about Valentine being back."

"He is," Magnus confirmed.

"Then he will the Clave's first priority."

"I don't think so," I said defeated.

"What?" Magnus looked around; my dad's face went blank.

"Because I am number one," I opened the curtains revealing two of the most intimidating Shadowhunters exploding with rippling muscles and tattooed marks. Their fierce expressions were focused on the door. It wasn't hard to imagine what they were going to do.

One stood back, and knocked the door down with his platform black boots, and it slammed to the ground unleashing blinding sunlight into the darkened room. _Hey!_ _I painted that door_, I wanted to scream, but that would have to wait for later. These guys meant business.

I turned, "Duma," the seraph blade flashed in my hands ready for battle.

What I was not prepared for was Duma fumbling on my sweated hands.

Derek Dragonway's chest rumbled, "Not this time, you won't." His brother stood menacingly against my uncle and father, "Anyone who interferes with this arrest, will answer to the Clave," Father dropped something on the ground his hands up. The Mormo bared its fangs and ducked underneath the table. We didn't stand a chance.

I knew they were going to send the Dragonway brothers. They were a legendary family of Idris that battled a dragon demon and slayed the last of their kind; hence their last name. Their ancestors were infamous and they were badass fighters living their legacy. The Russian looking brothers were saved for the worse of cases in Idris; being yours truly at the moment.

Before Magnus or Ragnor could act Dragonway grabbed my hand breaking my fingers. Duma fell to the ground with a clang. He pulled me upwards so my face was elevated to his bearded grimace. He was a giant, and he smelled like one.

He already knew the roll, "Seraphina Fell you are to stand Trial at the Hall of Accords. Do you have anything to say?"

My fingers throbbed in his, and I wanted to spit in his big ugly face, "I am not guilty."

"Nice try," he pulled me out of my house, and I was pretty sure this was not the worst thing to happen today.

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**Alrighty guys, Hope you liked it! Will update much quicker this time!**

**I am making a poll should I charge her as guilty or not guilty, you choose! **

**keep cool guys, **

**beachchick3**


	9. Chapter 8

**Here is the update! THIS IS DEDICATED TO Cougar rolypoly bug! **

**HERE IS MORE SERA AND JON FOR YOU! I LOVED YOUR REVIEW! HERE IS MORE FLASHBACKS JUST FOR YOU!**

**I promise this is really going to pick up!**

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**Chapter 8 **

**Blow Out the Candles**

** (1 year ago—3 months later) **

**September 11, 2005**

"You can't eat it like that!" I smacked his second caviar out of his hand.

"How am I supposed to know what you mean by savor it? Well you didn't explain it right?"

"You need to listen better if we are going to get this done," I said seriously.

With his long and agile fingers he prepared caviar with a chef's expertise, "If you have not learned by now, I am an expert on all matters of listening."

I stood up straight, "Yeah, Master of Listening pay close attention. You are supposed to," I took a small bite of the cracker cheese-caviar while he inspected all my movements, "and then," I said with my full mouth, "drink some of this," I took the paper cup from the portable table downing slowly the red dessert wine I bought.

"Very classy, talking with your mouth open," he repeated my actions perfectly.

"Still classier than you," I teased, "and you wipe your mouth after you are done. There, now you have learned the common manners they teach the female populace."

"I am sure there is more, but this is satisfactory," he prepared some more caviar. Jonathan Christopher was a mystery to me, and when he asked to learn manners that the Clave taught the Shadowhunters I was surprised. He explained that he found his father lacking, and wanted to know what I knew. Jonathan hunger for knowledge always was a perplexing thought to me. He was never sated.

"Trust me Jon this is far more than the other Nephilium boys know," and I succeeded in making him feel impressed with our afternoon of Manners 101. He always wanted to be the best. To Jonathan it was a contest or better yet a marathon to becoming the absolute best Shadowhunter alive. He was an Olympic runner, even though he despised labeling it so. He said that was not this goal, but I could argue otherwise. Sometimes I think he was so blind when it came to himself. That was why I was there to show him what was what.

We enjoyed the caviar at a makeshift table I had brought for this occasion. We didn't do this often, but today I was treating him since I had no choice in the matter.

"So Birthday Boy, what else do you want to do today?"

"I'm not sure," he mused.

"Battle tactics? Dueling?"

"We have practiced all summer, and you have proved lacking of late," he arrogantly said.

"You are so sweet Jon. How about some reading," I looked through our pile hidden in the tree.

"I am not in the mood for reading," I rolled my eyes.

"How about these coloring books I got," I felt like drawing. I had got them from a French town the last time Adam and I decided to visit with some other Nephilium. It had pictures of sunsets, birds, and forests, and it made me think of him.

"I am sixteen Sera, not four," he pushed away the coloring pages as if they were vipers.

"Hey, it's not my fault I want to revive your childhood years," I put them safely back in my bag.

"It's moments like these," he sighed and I tried to listen carefully, "that make me question. After all this time, how can you think I would ever waste my time with ludicrous games? When you do these things I believe you don't know me at all," he laid back on the grassy bed underneath the oak tree shade. _That hurt_, he avoided my sad glance, and I was trying to be nonchalant, like what he said didn't hurt. I wanted his birthday to be special, and he was hard to read when he acted this way.

"I am trying to make it special," I spoke my mind, "I wanted it to be perfect."

"Perfection," his mood darkened, "those who strive for perfection tend to be sorely disappointed in the outcome. Perfection is only found in the journey to attain it. Instead of focusing on making things perfect why not ask me instead of just thinking you know what is best."

"Fine, I will." He always needed to be right, but he did make solid arguments.

"Alright, Jonathan, what will it be," his eyes looked devious, and I knew that this was not going to be good.

"Please don't say what I think you are going to say. Don't make it something stupid that will get me into trouble, I don't need any more of your dares. The Council already has me for destroying the church windows. Dad can't pay for anymore trouble," He tapped his chin in thought, while I wished he would be lenient.

"But you are so easy to persuade," he contemplated.

"Don't take me for granted," I reminded him, "I might ban myself from coming out here for a couple of weeks."

He leaned up taking a sip of the wine looking across the field, "I don't think you could resist coming out here."

"Alright watch me," I chuckled, "You can be surprised when people tell me I can't do something."

"Now that I can believe," he chuckled and my tummy did a flip. I tamed it at once, promising myself that I would conquer these silly fantasies of Jon ever feeling anything, but companionship towards me. He had never made a move since the first day I ever met him. One kiss from Jon was enough to last me a lifetime, I don't think I could take his rejection the same blasé way I did when we were younger.

We were different people, and I liked to believe we had grown to be good friends.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

My cheeks colored, and I knew I was going to say something stupid.

"Rejection," I said softly.

"Excuse me," he was unprepared for that, but so was I.

"It's funny how the people we love the most, can hurt us the most," I contemplated unaware of where I was trying to go with this, "How people judge you before they even know you, and tell you hurtful things when you do not reach their expectations. When it comes down to other people we judge them on what we can get out of them, rather than what we can give them. How people that know you best," I paused swallowing, "know right where to hurt you."

_Wow_, I did not see that coming. I was afraid to look at him, but I did, but he was looking out at the field searching across the grass that we had met so many Sundays I had lost count.

He stretched his back out, but I know what I said got to him. "What are you saying Sera?"

"I wish the world was different," I finished, "I wish I was different."

"Do you want to be?"

I shrugged, "Yes, but it doesn't matter."

He was enraptured with what I was saying, but I was afraid to say anything more and ruin the place I had built with him, "Why? Why does it not matter?"

I switched tactics, "One person can't change the world," and it was true. I couldn't do much, but a little fire burned up within me.

"That doesn't mean," I continued, "That I am not going to try. When I am older I want to be on the Council, and change the way others view people. Mundanes, Downworlders, Halfbloods, and maybe even…" what was I saying, "even Demons," his body flinched at that, "everyone can be treated the same, given the same things, and maybe then things can be better. What is better than equality for all?"

"Sera," he was ready to debate me.

"I know it's impossible, and it sounds a bit like a socialist idealist, but that is what I like thinking about," I confessed, "I hate how people are oppressed by others. Who made us Gods?"

"_Sera_," His voice was by my cheek.

_When did he get so close?_

I turned my face towards his surprised that he had in fact moved over sitting a nail-pin's length away from me.

I was enveloped into his full dark pupils' inches away from mine dilated to the point they were frighteningly arousing. I was in a trance, and if I was not sitting I would have probably have fell flat on my bum. I knew I should be wary of him, but with him I had never been so safe. Even after all this time he still had this effect on me, but I dared not move one inch and destroy this.

My breaths came in short gasps, "What do you— think you— are you doing?"

"_Sera_," he calmed me his breathe inches from my lips, "I know what I want for my birthday."

_I wanted him down and dirty_, I thought, I hummed in agreement.

If he moved away like last time I was going to kill him, "You do? Well oblige me, what is that Jonathan Christopher?"

He loved when I used his full name, he would quiver like he was doing now. All I wanted was to make him happy today, and my hypocritical side wanted to have some also. It was amazing what type of power he had over me. He was right I could never keep myself away here; I had become too attached, too invested, too into this teenage dark angel.

"I want you"— he licked his lips and I was ready tackle him and there, "to become my Parabatai," he exhaled, and I was never more ready.

"I know how you feel— wait did you say Parabatai?"

His chest started heaving, and I knew he was laughing, _"Yes?"_ He looked proud, and ran off clearly enjoying himself, "I always thought of you like a brother," he laughed outright at my expression.

"You tricky BASTARD!" I threw the table over in anger, "I hate when you do that," I threw my bag of supplies over the field filled with rage. I felt like I could tear this field in half, and still have anger to tear him into shreds also.

He was laughing really hard now, "What happened to your peaceful side, Sera?" It took me a while to respond since I had never seen him so beautiful as he was now.

His face was relaxed. I finally saw his full smile without malice or hatred, but with joyfulness. He was the epitome of elation, and maybe it was the reason that I was attracted him through and through, but I felt as If I was looking into his soul. I wished at that moment I could have a picture of him.

He massaged the back of his head, "I never heard of Council members using such crude language," he knew how crude language I could use.

"To hell with peace!" I meant it, "If the Council had to deal with you, I would tell them that you are the first person to an expedited sentence! I would go dictator on your ass, and have a quick execution," I picked up my things angry with my sudden burst of childishness.

"So you do love me," he grinned, "a quick death always is reserved for loved ones."

"Well my dear parabatai," I teased, "only the best for you." I was a blushing mess. Did he actually say_ love_, oh be still my heart. Be still before you beat right out of my chest, and make a fool out of me in front of this devil of a man that controls you.

"Is that so?" He ran at me, but I ducked. Though he got what he wanted.

"Give it back Jon!" He had my white ribbon in his hand twirling it far above me.

"No," he tied it around his wrist, "it looks far better on me, and look it matches my hair," he said in a girly voice. I could not help but laugh as I charged, but he dodged evading me as if was a pesky bee. I felt light as whip cream, and I had never seen him so happy before let alone this playful, and I wish I had this moment on rerun for the rest of my life.

We both crashed in the middle of the field out of breathe.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Why do you keep asking that question?"

"I never knew how intelligent you had become, because before, no offense but, you were a rambling idiot," I smacked his arm, "now conversation seems more effortless, wouldn't you agree."

"It's called a relationship," I didn't have to see his grimace to know he had it on. For once I was glad we were staring at the blue sky, because at least I could pretend, "After a while with someone it gets effortless, but I wouldn't say we are anywhere close."

Jon rolled on his side, examining my face, "Why?"

I closed my eyes not allowing his closeness to affect my calm state of mind, "No relationship is easy, and those that are they are more likely not real. In order for a relationship to be real, then the individuals must face the problems then both can grow, and learn from their mistakes."

"Who taught you that?"

"I can't say that it has only been one person, more a collection of experiences I suppose."

"_Really?_ You learned that from all of your experiences."

"You aren't the first boy I have met Jon," I teased.

"So you enjoy telling me," he rolled back on his back, "You think yourself so clever do you? You think that since you have '_met_' a population of young males that you can form an opinion on a universal successful relationship with someone."

"No," I contradicted, "I have only _met_ two boys, and they are a pretty good bunch. Though I suppose that is what gossiping is for. You be amazed what girls go on about."

"Seraphina Fell," my stomach fluttered, "a gossiper, I don't believe it."

"Why? You think I would not have anything to share?"

"You are far too innocent for your own good," he hummed rolling over and probably leaving.

"If you say so," I knew I was not innocent, it was my eyes I tell you. They fooled everyone, unless you knew me you would think I was an angel, but in reality I am the yeti on steroids, **_there is no stopping me!_**

Something landed on my cheek, I wiped it off, but instead of an insect or a leaf it was warm, and soft. My eyes flew open to find Jon's face lowered to mine, and his hand on my cheek. My right hand now caught his left that I had just figured had been _caressing_ my cheek. He was caressing me. I closed my eyes imagining him _caressing my skin with his hands navigating across the expanse of my body, and then he would…._Oh sweet Lord, that went to a very dark and dirty place really fast. _Naughty hormone idled fantasies._

This was surely a dream.

His warm tangy breath on my cheek, "Let me," he commanded me softly. I let him. He traced the cresses on my worried forehead, down my nose, across my cheeks, and then stopped at my parted mouth. I must be panting because I felt the slight taste of his thumb on my tongue. I wanted to envelop him whole, and bring his head down to smack against my lips, but I dared not ruin anything.

With two extra fingers he trailed to my chin, and down my neck, and traced my clavicle the goosebumps trailing where his fingers had plundered. I had never been this turned on in my entire life, because frankly no one could do what Jon did to me. I never let anyone touch me like this, because since I met him I had that crazy school-girl fantasy that he wanted me the same way I wanted him.

And I _really really _wanted Jon.

His hand traced to crevice between my breast, and my body tensed, "What do you think you are doing Jon?"

"You aren't a little girl anymore Sera," he didn't say it to mock me, but more with awe. Like he was appraising something he did not know had been worth so much, "It has taken me a while to see that."

I gawked at the sculpted abdominal muscles his pushed up shirt revealed, and the way his gaze latched so deeply with mine. His eyes were like the dark of night when I felt safe and warm in the recess of my mind. I wanted him to know how much I truly appreciated him.

"And you are no boy," I felt daring. I bit my lip, and my hand went south grabbed him down there. He moaned hotly into my face, and I regretted nothing.

"That is for calling me innocent."

"I apologize my lady I meant it in the best possible way," his breath tickled my lips.

My body automatically arched up to mold against his, and he gave another groan as he felt my breast brush against his. I had definitely done the right thing, and that is when he did something that I never thought possible.

He dove into my body, his mouth hard and wanting on mine. Jon was kissing me, no he was ravishing my lips, and I was letting him. I released my hold on him, to get a hold on the nape of his neck. I held on to dear life as he kissed me with a force I had never thought possible. _When had he become such a good kisser?_

This was a dream I had last week, but it in no way had measured to how peaceful and real love could be.

"You taste like honey," he whispered against my lips.

"Thanks," I giggled. He could have said anything about me and I would have still melted against him as he pulled my bottom lip with the tips of his teeth. I loved when he did that.

"At least your breath doesn't smell this time," he chuckled.

I bonked my head against his, "That is so rude, Jon. You don't talk about things like that."

"I know," he smirked down at me, and rolled away from me, "but I still do." He was such an ass.

"You are such an Ass!"

"Then stop kissing it," he pulled me up for another kiss, but this one was far sweeter, and lingered. It was a nice change from the last one. There was no way he did not try this with someone else. He was far too good for his own good.

He released me, and I finally was able to think clearly, "Who was she?"

I was surprised at his willingness, "Germany, Music Festival. One Summer Ago. Two years older."

"What was her name?"

"Does it matter," he rolled his eyes.

"Nope, because you are never going to see her again."

He brushed the side of my face, "Are you jealous?" I had been kissed before. Yes, but never like this. With Jonathan I never wanted to be kissed again, ever. Now, that I had I did not want him to kiss anyone too, and a little part of me wished that he was just as equally possessive over me.

"Possibly," but I know my face was saying something else entirely.

"If we are talking exclusive, then how about that Ravenkey boy?"

"Adam?"

He growled at the name. It had so much bestiality that my legs shuddered as if his voice was a boom-box vibrating on my sensitive area. He pulled me by the waist my lips all his, "How should I act when you talk so repeatedly about him. How should I feel that he gets to see you," he kissed me repeatedly, "every," more softly, "single," my breath caught, "day."

"I do not love Adam," my stomach flipped at my words, and the weight that they carried.

His hands cupped my face, "What did you say?"

"I don't love him," I told him. He grabbed neck yanking me to his, and it would have hurt if the pleasure of his lips had not sent tingles all the way to toes.

He let me breathe, but he wasn't done, "Say it again."

"I do not love Adam," he gave me another toe-curling kiss.

"Thank goodness, I was hoping you didn't."

"I don't love him," I think I could have repeated that for hours if it mean he would kiss me this much, but again my mouth decided to commit suicide, "because I love you."

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**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeee! I don't know if this is going to fast! **

**Review if you want me to hold back they have known each for six years, but you know Sera she has no filler!**

***blushes* I try to control her, but Jon just drives her crazy! In the good way!**

**AlrighTy here is the poll**

**Yes- keep the ball rolling**

**No- Jon would never go for affection this early, let alone the l-word.**

**love you all, thanks for reading!**

**BEACHCHICK3**


	10. Chapter 9

**AUTHOR NOTE:**

**YOU ARE ALL LOVELY VIEWERS THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH THIS STORY!**

**I could not wait till Sunday, so I had to update!**

**Mixed on reviews on what to do... but you will see the path I chose. _hopefully_ you are not too disappointed! Next Next Sunday I will update, but reviews bring the chapters coming! Alrighty my cherubs, I can't leave you waiting too long, here is the next chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 9 **

**Stirring the Beast**

_I love you... _

_I love you?.. My mouth had committed suicide, and I was going to pay the price._

"I love you," I said. It was effortless to say, and maybe that is why I knew that it was the wrong thing to do. Jon would mentally scalp me if I hugged him too long, and revealing my feelings was a level I never dared think of entering into. Well here I was, I said it, I was an idiot but I was pretty proud of cementing on my poker face, and keeping the turmoil of my thoughts at bay. I had to stand up for this, because with a person like Jon he thrived off those that wavered in their beliefs.

"What did you say to me?

"I love you Jo-"

"I know what you said, be silent."

"Then why did you?"

"I can't believe this. I told you to be still."

He was deadly silent, and his gaze looked glassy. The happiness trickled out of me, and ebbed to a silent glow. My lips felt raw, but so did my heart. I wanted him to say it back, but I knew I would be pushing him. I dared not speak. He lifted his hand up and I winced taking a few steps back.

It was clearly the wrong move, because he was only correcting his shirt, but the damage was done. I had recoiled from him. Fire blazed in his dark eyes, and I was fearful for what came next. For a moment I thought he was going to strike me. No one had struck me unless it was for practice, or an attack from battling against demons. Enemies struck you down, and Jon was not my enemy. I was in love with him, but I was afraid of him. _Was that love?_

He gripped his black jeans, "Take it back."

"I won't," I wrapped my hands under my chest, "I meant it."

"How could you say something so ridiculous?"

"My love for you is not ridiculous, it is right," _it is true, it is strong, it is us_. Now I was making it sound like a Broadway musical. I had thought about this for a while, and there was no backing down now that it was out of the closet.

He chuckled with no amusement, "You are ridiculous for believing so. What do you think you are doing? You say 'you love me' and I follow you back home, and we live happily ever after? Is that what you want because if it is then let me just cut that loose and say I will never feel anything more than lust when it comes to you."

I shook my head angrily, "That is a lie!"

"I mean every word I say," He repeated, "Do not delude yourself with a few kisses. What do you think that was a few moments ago." _What the hell? He needed to stop that_, "Don't confuse lust for love."

My arms went skyward, "Don't do this Jon! After everything we have been through, how can you feel nothing?"

"I can't," his jaw was set in a stern grimace, "It is impossible."

"Don't you remember being fruit buddies? The bets we made on what I could steal? Burning down Old Man Sam's cow pen?"

"Irrelevant," he dismissed.

"What? But," my mouth pouted, "uggghhh…. okay, How about visiting France, Italy, remember California? Now that was a lot of fun we had! We got into all sorts of trouble, but we always got out of it. We got out because we did it together. Don't you remember?" The taste of sea-salt from Santa Monica beach, and the course sand on my bare feet assaulted my mind with the memory. It was one of my most favorite memories to replay. The ocean was a wonder to me, and how endless it looked. The way the ships disappeared as they trekked across the ocean as if they fell off the edge disappearing from sight. The same way my heart-felt now, as if I fell off the edge with them.

His face was hard and mean. I focused on his reddened lips to remember that it was not all my damn imagination. _Shut the front door __Sera_, As if my imagination was that great to start with.

His eyes calculated the way I held my arms weakly at my sides, "Remember? Of course I do. I do not see what difference it makes. You act as if these memories would make you have ownership over me. The problem does not lie with my memory, but you thinking emotions exist when they do not."

He was making me very pissed, "Oh, SAVE THAT CRAP FOR THOSE THAT BELIEVE IT! Explain to me how you cannot remember how awesome it felt to just live, and be free to do whatever we wanted. Be whoever we wanted; sleep wherever, and at the end of the day we knew that another adventure was right around the corner."

He stared at the ground, rubbing his tip of his shoe into the ground. How could he be doing this to me? When had I ever hurt him like this? Didn't he know what his silence was doing to me?

If I kept this up I was going to get a heart attack.

I rubbed my forehead, "_For God's sake, Jon_. I tied your shoe when we were waiting for the taxi, and then I let you sleep on my shoulder," that was one of my favorite memories, and it hurt trying to invoke some feeling when he was the one of the main reasons that memory was my favorite.

"It does not matter," his voice was quieter.

"Why?"

"You have these notions that If you dealt with me during my times of weakness, then I will thank you. That you could hold it over my head, and have power of me."

"I DON'T WANT A FUCKEN THANK YOU JON! I DON'T CARE ABOUT POWER EITHER! ALL I WANT IS TO CARE FOR YOU!"

He didn't answer.

My voice was hoarse, "Why can't you feel anything?" I kicked the portable table making caviar fly, and glass break. He was silent as I threw my three-year old fit, breaking everything in sight. I wanted him to join in to show him how much fun I could really be, but I then it would defeat the purpose of the destruction. I was supposed to show my disdain through destruction, not want to include him in my mayhem.

"WHY!" I threw a wine glass at a tree, and it broke on impact.

"CAN'T YOU FEEL!" I wanted to pull my hair out of the roots. I sounded like the exorcist, and I was pretty sure I looked like one, "WHYY!

He screamed teardrops flying, "BECAUSE I AM CORRUPTED!"

I froze in my tirade, because Jon was shaking from head to toe. He had been the entire time I had destroyed his birthday scene. Now that I was paying attention he had rivulets of tears going down his cheeks. Jon. Was. Crying. Oh god what had I done! I broke him!

He did not hold back, "I AM NOT EVEN HUMAN! I AM A MONSTER AND NO ONE CAN LOVE ME! IT WAS MY FAULT MY MOTHER LEFT US," he caught his breath, but I was afraid he was going to blow the vessel in his neck, "I CAN'T EVEN THINK RIGHT. ALL I WANT TO DO ARE BAD THINGS TO PEOPLE, AND I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY?"

He gasped loudly the oxygen entering his lungs in great gulps, "I don't- know- why." I had no idea what to say or do so I stood there waiting for him to say more, "I try so hard, and it never helps. I want to be normal, but I can't be. I never could be, and it makes me feel…" his eyes searched back and forth across the field, but they did not see.

"It makes you feel sad," I finished for him. I had never seen so much emotion in one person before. He finally was able to let go, and I was happy I here to help him as he did. He didn't have to go through this alone.

"No, it is not grief. It makes me feel furious," he wiped his cheeks, "I am so angry for my choices being taken. I never wanted this, and I am the one that has to pay the price for this."

"Who did this to you, Jon?"

He didn't answer me. He had his hand over his mouth.

"Who took your choices from you Jonathan? Why would they do that?"

His hand was shaking, "I am a product of revenge. Revenge for a grandfather that was lost," he whispered, "and the product of hatred for a mother that decided to leave."

I was still in shock over all this emotion. It was like he was holding this back, and the floodgates just opened releasing every tiny emotion in its path. He stood there in a daze not even seeing me, and it scared me to see him lose so much control. I dare not go near him, my instincts were telling me to run screaming bloody murder, but I just bit my lip instead waiting for him to return to me.

I wanted to tell him that he was stupid for thinking this was his entire fault, and that his feelings would come in time. Though I felt this went deeper than that. Someone had seriously hurt Jonathan, damaging him in a way that I knew naught how to repair. Well not yet anyways.

He began swaying, "You cannot care for me."

"It's too late for that," I was too invested into this to go anywhere now.

He knelt his energy was spent. This was definitely his crashing point. He had his hands covering his beautiful mourning face. Even when he was crying he was still was the handsomest man to me. In a way his emotion moved me to want him even more, "I can never be the man that you love. You loving me would kill us both," his eyes closed, "If you even conceive the horrors of my origin, you would turn me over to the Clave the moment you heard it."

I leaned down placing a hand on his shoulder, "That is where you are wrong Jonathan! I could never do anything to hurt you. You don't hurt the people you care about. Whoever did this to you we are going to make them fix it. Okay, we can make this better,_ together_."

He mumbled into his hands.

"What did you say," I rubbed his shoulder, "I can't hear you."

"L-ebe-ee"

"What?"

He shouted, "Leave me!"

I hooked my arm around his biceps, "Not until we overcome this," I urged him to get up, "not until we have this all figured out. I am not going to leave you like this."

He got up with me, "Save me your false security." When he stood his hair hid his eyes, "Since the day you met me you pity me."

I tried to fix his hair, "Jon?"

He rejected my touch, "Don't deny it. It is written on your face, your games you play, and this patched up birthday excuse. Yes, all you have felt for me is pity. Let's feel sorry for the boy without anyone. No mother, horrible excuse for a father, and no friends. Maybe he will reveal everything, and we can laugh at him for the failure he truly is. How weak he is to let a girl teach him the reasons to give up one's duty in the name of love."

"I do not pity you. Besides I reject that arguement, why can't you do both. I am a Shadowhunter, and I believe in love. Heck, _I live by love_."

He turned showing me his back, "You know nothing. When have you truly suffered for what you believe in?"

"You don't have to suffer to believe in things, or to stick true to something. Pain does not equal investing yourself into your beliefs. It is just a form of oppressing people."

"Well have you been oppressed in your beliefs, Sera? Name one time?"

"Well, If you want to speak in explicit terms. Let's see um... well I am doing it right now. I am dealing with all this nonsense about you are _unable_ to feel or something, and I have been doing it every past Sunday it seems."

"That is what keeps you weak," he cursed, "sloppy, arrogant, and a fool of a person if I ever have met one. Do you expect me to grovel at your feet now_? Oh THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO LOVE ME! I AM SO THANKFUL!"_

This was harassment; he made me feel pitiful, and then made fun of me, "STOP ACTING STUPID! I am only caring for you, this is not weakness. Love makes you strong. Whoever told you that was sorely mistaken."

"Why should I listen to a half-blood," my blood froze, "the bastard of a warlock, and an unnamed Shadowhunter mother. Yes, I can see it now, _Seraphina Fell the Warlock Bastard, future Consul extraordinaire_," he mocked.

Suddenly I was back at the Academy with Aline Penhallow scorning my existence, "Go ahead tease me, but when I get home someone is waiting for me, who is waiting for you? Who cares for you except me, tell me that?"

His face crumpled, and new row of tears cascaded down his face.

I had hurt him, so bad. My face contorted in pain reflecting his, and I knew that he was right. I did pity him, but I also loved him, and cared for him. I wished he had someone to go back to. At least someone out there that loved him even more than I did.

"You were right."

My eyebrows rose, "the people who love us, know where to hurt us."

My pants came is short bursts, and my heart hurt from beating so fast. I knew I was going to ruin this. I always ruined things for myself, and it was my damn tongue this time. If I had a mind I would snip it out and be done with it. I bit the tip of it, just to stop it from shaking.

"Jon," I whispered trying to rectify the moment, "I'm so-"

"You have said enough, Sera. Leave me."

"I am not going anywhere," I opened my hands in surrender, "my place is here. I can stay longer."

"Go, back to the people who love you," he whispered scornfully.

"Maybe- if you want you could come with"—

"NOOO!" He shoved me away, and I fell down terrified at his reaction. He was horrified with my offer to him. I was ready to cry, but the tears would not come.

"You ruined this," he wrapped his arms around himself. He looked in pain and I cursed my stupidity for the millionth time.

"Don't follow me!" he shouted. I was too surprised to do anything, but to view his retreating back escape through the forest line. He ran away from me, and my declaration. I knew he would act this way if I said it, but there was a part of me that hoped that just this once he would listen to me, and I could finally take care of him in the way I always wanted.

I stiffly got up, packed my things, and walked away. It was all robotic, but in the back of my mind I knew this would hit me, and I would beat myself up after.

I made it to Amatis' house in the dead of night, and I knocked on the door instead of walking in. I stood out there for a while, numb to the world, and kept wiping my running nose making it fell sensitive and raw. It still did not hit me.

She looked upset, "Seraphina? Where have you been?"

I did not feel anything. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, the tears fell.

"You should have been here, wait, what happened to you?" I remembered where I was before, and with whom. _Oh gawd_, how did this happen? It hit me full force. Like a freight train and I fell into her arms, sobbing, and repeating the same thing over and over.

"He doesn't love me,

He doesn't love me, h-

-e doesn't love me, he"-I couldn't breathe, "He doesn't," the tears made it hard to see.

After taking a hot shower and tucking me into bed she joined me.

"Take this," Amatis gave me a sleeping drought. I didn't have to ask her, and I was grateful that she stayed with me. She stroked my wet head while I rested on her stomach. She didn't say anything at all, but held me until I cried myself to sleep.

There are times when words are not needed, and this was one of those times. Before I went into my induced slumbrr the last thought in my mind was of his face as he smiled and laughed twirling my white rippling ribbon in the air. As I fell into deep sleep his face turned to pain as he crumbled to the ground lashes going across his chest and heart.

_Jon!_

I screamed at him to get up, looking around for the demons that were attacking him, and reaching for my seraph blade ready to counter back for the both of us.

"You were right," he said to me. He put his leaking blood on the side of my face, "you hurt me best." My seraph blade was already bloody, and it matched the marks on his body. I threw it away in horror as his eyes rolled back into his head.

_NO! Jon Nooo!_

_He died in my arms. I was trapped in the worst nightmare possible. In a world where I was the cause of Jonathan's hurt and eventual end. I started gasping oh my god this is reality, this feels so real! I am going to kill Jon if i keep this up! I pinched myself, slapped myself, but I could not wake. _

I had nightmares for the rest of the night. Sleep swallowing me whole, and reality mixing with the hallucinations of the wrongs I did to Jonathan Christopher, the man I loved.

* * *

**That was a really dark chapter, but of course this is not going to be a lovey dovey story. First I don't believe in those, and Sera is going to have a rude awakening when she learns love is not all she was told and thought to be true. **

**Love to see what you think! LOVE YOU ALL FOR YOUR TIME! YOU WILL SEE HER TRIAL THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER! And some Flashbacks too! The past and present are going to collide very soon!**

**BESOS,**

**beachchick3**


	11. Update My Lovely Viewers!

Hi there beachchick3

I just finished the last book, and let me say tears, ughgghhh i am a ball of mess right now! No spoilers, but you have to read it, maybe better yet... Don't I had to put it down more then 6 times, especially during the end when,... Ohhhh noooo spoilers! Promise I am not that mean ;)

Anywhooooo... I am now working on the next chapter! Promise to update soon! I finally can see where this story is going, and let me tell you I have big hopes!

so stay calm all my lovely readers, I have not given up yet!

I would never do that

Jon : *death stare*

me: hides behind hands

Jon: takes out seraph blade

Me: Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh! *cowers behind Ragnor* Sera laughs openly

Alright I promise to have it soon! Before Jon kills me that is!

love you all,

beachchick3


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